


Romantic Consequences of Alternate Living Situations

by dearzoemurphy



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Bisexual Britta Perry, Canon Rewrite, Episode: s06e01 Ladders, Episode: s06e02 Lawnmower Maintenance and Postnatal Care, Episode: s06e03 Basic Crisis Room Decorum, Episode: s06e04 Queer Studies and Advanced Waxing, F/M, Gen, Non-Explicit Sex, Season/Series 06, Slow Build, features discussion of bad parents and familial issues, lesbian Annie Edison
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:54:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 71,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27532582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearzoemurphy/pseuds/dearzoemurphy
Summary: When Britta finds herself being evicted, Jeff offers her a place to stay. There's absolutely nothing that can go wrong with two ex-fiancés living together, right?Season 6 AU.
Relationships: Annie Edison & Abed Nadir & Britta Perry & Jeff Winger, Britta Perry & Elroy Patashnik, Britta Perry/Jeff Winger, Dean Craig Pelton & Jeff Winger, Frankie Dart & the Study Group
Comments: 85
Kudos: 76





	1. Introduction to Cohabitiation

**Author's Note:**

> uh soooo I'm embarking on a multichapter adventure for the first time in a while!! this is a concept that's been in my head for a very very long time. in fact, the second Community fic I ever wrote was the first incarnation of this! I took long enough to finish the first couple of chapters that I grew to dislike it before I posted it, and I ended up abandoning the idea for several months. however, something pulled me back to it and here we are! I have a concrete plan and a good feeling about this one, so I'm hoping that this works out how I want it to!! without further ado, I hope you all enjoy the first chapter!! <3

Britta woke up to soft light pouring in through the window. She groggily attempted to turn away from it, her head pounding with a trademark hangover headache.

 _“How much did we drink last night?”_ she thought, _“Must have been a really bad episode…”_

Years earlier, she and Jeff had developed a Glee drinking game where the only goal was to get plastered enough to stomach the reality of watching Glee. Recently, the game had gotten particularly intense since she didn’t have to worry about going back to her own apartment afterwards. Rules kept adding up as the strength of the drinks they used increased - the show's increasing absurdity doing absolutely nothing to help with their predicament. 

She curled herself into a ball, hoping that she could go back to sleep. However, it wasn't long before she noticed the persistent hum of the TV coming from the living room. 

_“There’s no way I’ll be able to go back to sleep,"_ she thought, audibly sighing in frustration, _"and I need to get things ready for the party tonight. I might as well get up."_

Britta sat up and yawned, kicking the covers off of herself and almost wadding them up in a ball at the end of her bed. She swung her legs over the side and stepped onto the hardwood floor, standing up and padding over to the door to open it and peer out into the living room.

“Jeff?” 

Her roommate was sitting on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table and had a bowl of cereal in hand. He was wearing his favorite blue polka dotted robe, his hair mussed up and sticking out in every conceivable direction. Britta practically had to stop herself from rushing over to comb through it with her fingers. 

He looked up and smiled. “Well, well, someone’s up early,” Jeff said snarkily, waving his spoon in Britta’s direction. 

Britta rolled her eyes as she walked past him without so much as a sideways glance, her sights set on the espresso machine in his kitchen. “Last night was rough. Glee should come with some kind of FDA warning,” she grumbled.

“Sure. Must be _really_ bad for lightweights like you,” Jeff said, keeping his gaze locked on the TV.

She turned to glare at him despite the fact that he wasn’t looking at her. “Excuse you, I believe that you were drunk enough last night to tell me that you consistently wet the bed until you were 12 years old,” she retorted. She pulled a small mug out of an overhead cabinet and dropped a pod into the machine, clicking it shut in time to turn back around and see Jeff duck his head down in embarrassment. 

“Kind of thought you would be too drunk to remember that…” he mumbled sheepishly. He shoveled a spoonful of Lucky Charms into his mouth before turning around to face his roommate. “You know, today's your official one week move-in-aversary.”

“Are we really at the point in our lives where we celebrate meaningless anniversaries like that?” Britta mused. Her coffee finished brewing and she picked up her cup from the machine. She took a small sip before walking back across the room to join Jeff on the couch. 

“Britta, I'm a 40 year old community college professor and you're a 30-something year old soon-to-be sandwich counter clerk slash bartender. We have to find joy where we can,” he said dryly, “Besides, we’re hosting a back-to-school party tonight. Is celebrating this anniversary really the most inane thing that we’re doing today?”

She shrugged. “Fair enough.

“And aren't you glad to be sleeping in a bed instead of a tent on the quad?” Jeff asked coyly, practically batting his eyelashes in her direction.

“You say that like I’m supposed to thank you for your benevolence," Britta replied, narrowing her eyes at him.

He flashed Britta a devilish smirk. “You are.” 

\---

_8 days earlier_

\---

Jeff was less than pleased to wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of his phone ringing. He groaned and rolled over, reaching over to his side table to pick it up and decline the call.

 _“Must’ve forgotten to put it on do not disturb…”_ he thought, slightly perturbed at having his sleep cycle interrupted. He settled back into place once his phone stopped ringing, letting his eyes drift shut. However, it was only a moment before the phone started ringing again.

“Who the hell…” he grumbled. Frustrated, he picked it up to see who was calling. He sighed in resignation upon reading the caller ID and realized that he was probably obligated to answer.

“Craig? It’s 2 am, what could possibly be so important?” Jeff asked, more than a little annoyed now.

“Jeffery, I’m so sorry to disturb you, but I wanted you to know that campus security found one of your friends camping in the quad,” the Dean explained.

“What? What do you mean?”

“Britta was found sleeping in a tent by the library. She said that she’s conducting some kind of protest, but told me that she couldn’t go home when I asked her to leave.”

“How does this concern me?” Jeff asked with a yawn.

“She refused the offer I made for her to stay with me. I was hoping that perhaps she would be more open to the possibility of staying with one of her…closer friends," Craig said hopefully.

Jeff rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling for a moment. The old Jeff would have said “tough luck” and hung up without a second thought. But the new Jeff sighed, got out of bed, and started searching for a clean pair of pants.

“Of course. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Oh, thank you Jeffery! You know, it’s not a good look for Greendale to have students sleeping outside on campus. If City College found out, they'd never let it go!” the Dean exclaimed. He paused for a moment before adding, “And Britta shouldn’t be out here alone at night.”

“Absolutely. I’ll be there in 10,” Jeff said. He hung up and tossed his phone onto his bed.

_“Jesus, Britta. You better have a good explanation for this.”_

\---

Jeff pulled up to the student parking lot and quickly spotted Britta and the Dean sitting on a bench by the Luis Guzman statue. He jogged over to join them, preparing to interrogate his friend. 

“Britta? What the hell?!” he exclaimed, stopping right in front of her.

“Listen, I was conducting a simple protest on the treatment of the homeless in America, and-”

Jeff sighed. “Your lease was up, wasn’t it?”

Britta slowly lifted her head, sheepishly meeting his gaze. “Maybe. But correlation doesn’t always equal causation!”

He exchanged a look with the Dean, who sighed and patted Britta on the shoulder. “We all agree that housing should be a universal right in this country. But protesting on this campus isn’t going to change anything. We can’t do much to help, we’re not exactly made of money!”

She looked down at the ground and clasped both hands together. “Okay. Fine. You got me. I do actually want to protest,” she started, stopping to glare at the Dean for a moment, “but I'm kind of sort of temporarily homeless myself. I’ll get a motel room until I can get this sorted out.”

“You should stay with me,” Jeff said, fast enough that he wouldn't be able to talk himself out of making the offer.

The group fell silent for a moment, Britta staring at Jeff with visible confusion.

“And why would I do that?”

“No offense, but I’m sure that you’re not exactly liquid right now. It doesn’t make sense for you to get even the cheapest motel room you could find when I have a perfectly good couch,” he insisted. 

The Dean patted her on the shoulder again, sensing an opportunity to leave. “Well, can’t argue with that! I’ll see you both next week, there’s a special surprise I can’t wait for you to meet!” he said, standing up and scurrying out. Jeff and Britta both ignored his cryptic statement and kept glaring at each other.

“Offense taken, Jeff. I have…nearly $37 in my bank account. That’s pretty liquid!” she said, her tone implying that she was trying more to convince herself than to convince Jeff.

He gave a deep sigh, quickly losing patience, but not wanting to give up on the cause. Britta was his close friend, after all, and he didn't like seeing her like this. “Please, just come with me. I know it’s probably a matter of pride, but we don’t have to make a thing of it. I just don’t want you sleeping out here or blowing all of your money on a shitty motel room,” he said, practically begging.

Britta pursed her lips, her face drawing itself up in concentration as if she were weighing the pros and cons of each of her options. Jeff didn’t break his hopeful gaze.

After a moment of consideration, she lifted her head up to look him in the eye. “Are you sure?” she asked.

“Positive.” 

Britta let out a long, loud sigh. “Fine. But just for tonight. I’m sure I’ll figure out something else by tomorrow,” she said.

Jeff bit his lip to suppress a laugh, not believing her one bit. Surprisingly, the thought of Britta staying with him for as long as she needed to didn’t bother him.

“I’m sure you will. Now, come on, let’s get your stuff and get out of here before we figure out who else camps out at Greendale overnight,” he said, offering her his bent arm.

Britta rolled her eyes at the gesture, yet still sprung up from the bench and readily wrapped both of her arms around his. “I bet Starburns has a spot somewhere for his new meth lab,” she joked.

Jeff smirked. “There’s no doubt about it." 

\---

The next morning, Britta woke up to golden light flooding Jeff Winger’s living room. She yawned and stretched her arms as she sat up and rolled over, noticing the smell of something frying coming from the other side of the room. She kicked off the blanket that Jeff had draped over her and swung her legs over the edge of the couch.

She padded over to Jeff's kitchen, quickly seeing that her friend hunched over the stove. He was only wearing a white tank top and his signature green and white striped boxers, his hair tousled and slightly damp.

“Well, well, good morning, sunshine,” he called, having noticed Britta out of the corner of his eye.

“Hey. What time is it?” she asked with a yawn.

“10:02 am. I already went for a jog and showered,” Jeff explained, gesturing to his wet hair.

Britta lifted herself up onto one of his barstools, shaking her head. “Of course you did. Whatcha making?”

“Scrambled eggs and veggie sausage,” he answered.

“Wait, do you usually eat veggie sausage?” 

“No. Why would I?” 

Britta smiled down at the counter. “No reason.”

“If you’re implying that I got it just for you, that would be correct. I had to go to the store anyway,” he said nonchalantly. He inspected the eggs and sausage one last time before turning off the burner and shoveling them out of the pan and onto two plates. She smirked as he slid one plate over to her and moved around the counter to take a seat next to her.

“So…I was thinking about solutions for my current housing dilemma. And there’s one of my old anarchist friends who just bought herself a house. It's kind of run like a commune? Point being, I can probably get out of your hair before the night,” Britta said, “Besides, Shirley asked me to run her sandwich shop once the school year starts. I’ll be making a percentage from whatever I sell there and can get myself a new place in no time.”

Jeff gave her a strange look as he took a sip of his coffee. “If you’re just going to stay with another friend, there’s no reason for you to move all of your stuff out of here and into there,” he said, pausing for a moment.

“By the way, where is the rest of your stuff?”

“Mostly in my car,” she said matter-of-factly as she cut up a piece of sausage.

“And the rest?”

“...maybe it’s stashed in a few places around the Greendale library,” Britta answered, looking and feeling ashamed as she added, “Chang knows all the good hiding spots.”

Jeff chuckled, but couldn’t shake the feeling of pity for his friend. He should help her out, right? It would take some adjusting though; he hadn’t had a roommate since Chang had weaseled his way in a few years ago. 

_“At least I enjoy Britta’s company more than I enjoy his,”_ Jeff thought.

If he did offer to let her stay with him, would she be offended that the gesture would put her on the same level as _Chang_ , of all people? Was there anything in it for him? He was positive that she wouldn’t be able to contribute much to the cause of rent or groceries, even with the new sandwich stand gig. And yet, something inside him was prompting him to offer her the spare bedroom that had sat empty for a few too many years.

_“I still haven’t gotten around to turning it into a home office…I guess keeping Britta off the streets would be a better use of the space. Nothing says that I can’t get a desk for my room."_

He took a deep breath. “You could move in with me.”

Britta froze. A beat of silence.

“Okay, one, who are you and what did you do with Jeff Winger? Two, I’m honestly not sure if sleeping on your couch would be much of an upgrade from my tent. It _was_ rather homey,” she quipped.

“No, I’m serious. I have a spare bedroom that we could fix up,” he replied.

“You have a spare bedroom and made me sleep on that godawful couch for the night?!” Britta exclaimed, visibly outraged.

Jeff winced. “Okay, first off, ouch. Second, I only have a bed frame right now. But we can get a cheap mattress somewhere.”

Britta narrowed her eyes at him. However, despite her visible consternation, she seemed to be considering his offer. Jeff leaned his head on one hand and gave her a hopeful look, prompting her to say yes.

“I mean, I don’t want to impose. And I don’t want your charity,” she said eventually.

“One, you wouldn’t be imposing. We’d each have our own rooms, and honestly, with our schedules? We’d hardly ever be in the apartment at the same time, anyway,” Jeff said, “And don’t think of this as charity. We can set up a rent schedule once you’re back on your feet. This is just…me offering to help you out until you can get a new place of your own.”

“That’s charity, Jeff.”

“It’s not! Just…I don’t want you sleeping in a tent on the quad, okay?” Jeff admitted, “God knows what kind of shady characters hang around Greendale’s campus at night,” he added.

Britta looked down at her almost empty plate and tapped her fork against the counter. “I mean…I didn’t see anybody else there last night. But…”

She turned to meet Jeff’s still hopeful gaze and let her face relax into a gentle smile. “I don’t want to find out who might be there in the future.”

“So you’ll stay with me?” Jeff asked, sounding more earnest and hopeful than he had intended to.

“Yeah. As long as you promise not to make a big deal out of it,” Britta conceded.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied.

“Good. One quick thing though…”

“Yes?”

“Your offer doesn’t have anything to do with the…incident from the end of last year, does it?”

It was Jeff’s turn to look down at the counter, genuinely unsure of how he should respond.

“We’re calling it ‘the incident’ now, huh."

Britta huffed. “Well, what else would you call it, Jeff?”

“I don’t know. Something less ominous than _‘the incident’_ ,” he said.

“Would you prefer if I referred to it as ‘the engagement’?” she asked pointedly.

Jeff bristled. “That’s worse.”

“I thought so.”

They sat in silence for a moment, Jeff still unable to look up from the counter and Britta keeping her gaze locked on him.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, this is the first time I’ve thought about it in a while,” Jeff said softly, “and I certainly wasn’t thinking about it when I made the offer. You’re my friend, Britta, maybe the closest one I have. I have no ulterior motives, I really just don’t want you sleeping in a tent outside on the Greendale quad.”

“Wow. I’m pretty sure that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Britta said, sounding only halfway sarcastic.

Jeff gave her an almost sad smile in return. He knew for sure that it wasn’t, but decided to agree and put an end to this particular conversation.

“Sure. There doesn’t have to be anything awkward about two ex-fiancés living together while one of them gets back on their feet,” he said dryly.

Britta snorted. “I think we’re two of the only people on Earth that could possibly end up in this situation.”

“That we are.” 

\---

_6 days later_

\---

Jeff and Britta spent the last few days of their summer vacation making his apartment a place that was comfortable for both of them: collecting the possessions that she had scattered about the Greendale library, buying a cheap mattress from a sweet old woman on Craigslist, and moving everything into the spare bedroom. Jeff briefly wondered if they were doing too much to make the room hers when he bought poster tack and suggested that she hang up her collection of posters - all of bands that he vaguely recognized as ones that she’d introduced to him before. Britta’s eyes had lit up at the suggestion and she’d timidly asked “are you sure?” as if hanging up a few posters in a way that wouldn’t damage the paint job was the same level of commitment as taking out a mortgage or adopting a cockatoo.

As Jeff helped her hang up the posters - on account of being able to reach a foot higher than she could - Britta suggested that they host a back-to-school get together the night before the first day of school. Much to his own surprise, Jeff agreed.

“You know, my last house party was a total disaster. Chang tried to move in during the chaos of it all,” he’d said as he smoothed the last poster into place and climbed down his step stool.

“I’ll keep an eye on him and make sure it doesn’t happen again,” she’d replied with a conspiratorial wink, adding, “The stakes are personal. I’m not that keen on the idea of having to share a room with him.”

So, on the eve of their return to Greendale, the remaining members of the Greendale Seven, Chang, the Dean, and Duncan gathered in Jeff’s apartment. Him and Britta had hoped to break the news of their living situation delicately. However, their hopes of doing so were dashed while they were still pouring drinks for everyone.

“So, Britta, I take it that you’ve found a place to stay that’s not my school’s quad?” Craig asked as she was preparing a vodka cranberry for him.

Chang nodded. “Yeah, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen you around the library. I miss having the company.”

“You still live in the library?” Annie asked incredulously, setting down her malibu sunset.

The former Spanish teacher shrugged. “Uh huh. By choice. It’s the best place I’ve ever lived, I don’t see any reason to find another. Or try to deal with roommates,” he explained with apparent disgust.

Duncan and Annie both shook their heads in disbelief, Abed nodding along as if Chang had just imparted some important piece of wisdom.

During the conversational detour, Britta turned to Jeff in search of some kind of reassurance. He didn’t look up from the glass of scotch that he was pouring for Duncan, leaving Britta to roll her eyes and turn back to meet the Dean’s still inquisitive gaze.

“Uh, yeah! I just stayed there the one night that you found me,” she said sheepishly.

The others looked curiously at the pair from where they were seated on Jeff’s barstools.

“The one night that he found you?” Abed inquired.

“I, um, had one little night of camping on Greendale’s campus. In protest of homelessness,” Britta replied.

“And your own state of homelessness at the time was totally irrelevant,” Jeff mumbled, prompting Britta to swat him on the arm. She handed Craig’s drink over to him and leaned forward onto the bar.

“So are you back in your old apartment or in a new one?” Annie asked.

“...a new one.”

“Somewhere in town? Are you closer to our building now? Maybe we could hang out at your place instead of ours for once,” Abed suggested.

“Well…uh, we’re hanging out in it right now,” Britta said, gesturing to their surroundings and flashing an awkward smile.

The Dean appeared to choke on his drink, the others giving various shocked expressions.

“Wait, you moved in with Jeffery?!” he exclaimed, “I only meant for you to stay with him for a night or so!”

“It just made sense. I have a spare bedroom that I’m not using, so I’m letting Britta stay in it until she gets back on her feet,” Jeff explained.

“Oh no. You two found a new way to spin off,” Abed said, sounding mildly horrified.

“We’re not ‘spinning off’,” Britta protested, putting air quotes around the phrase, “We’re still here! And this is just temporary.”

“Oh, this is a much more entertaining goodbye party than I had anticipated,” Duncan muttered, taking a sip of his scotch and shaking his head in amusement.

The group froze.

“Wait, _goodbye party_?” Jeff asked, giving him an incredulous look.

Duncan scanned the group, coming to the sudden realization that he’d forgotten to fill them in on an important piece or two of information.

“Well, it’s recently come to my attention that this was not intended to be a goodbye party for me,” he said sheepishly, “so now is as good a time as any to tell you all that I’ve been offered another job. And I accepted that offer.”

“That’s great! What’s the job?” Annie asked.

“Uh, well, you see, it’s…I’m going to be a professor at City College.”

“What?!?!” Craig shrieked, Duncan cringing immediately in response.

“Yes, I know, I know…it’s nothing personal, I promise. They just offered me _far_ more money than I was making at Greendale, and you should have noticed that my contract was up for renewal last year, Pelton,” he explained calmly, “I mean, the first day of school is tomorrow, how did you not know?”

Accusatory glances drifted over to the Dean, who was now visibly shaking and dripping sweat.

“Uh, I guess I did notice that. And! Because you’re my friend, I wanted you to seek opportunities elsewhere,” he said hastily, “and, um, we hired a new psychology professor. We’re totally prepared for your departure.”

“Uh huh…” Jeff murmured skeptically.

Duncan chuckled, leaning across the bar towards Jeff. “You know, if you ever want to seek more lucrative opportunities in the future…” he whispered close to Jeff’s ear.

“I’m listening.”

Craig’s eye twitched as he observed the two men talking, his hand tightly gripping his glass. Britta shook her head at the events unfolding in front of her and poured herself a generous amount of vodka so that she might be able to find some enjoyment in the absurdity of it all.

“So…Britta! Have you set up your room yet?” Annie asked, giving her an unsubtle wink to show that she had found a way for them to escape.

Britta gave Annie a confused look before realizing the goal of her question. “Um, yeah! Do you want to come see it?” she offered. Annie nodded eagerly, swiftly collecting her drink and leaping off of her barstool.

The two women disappeared into Britta’s bedroom, leaving Craig to continue staring at Jeff and Duncan while Abed and Chang were engaged in a side conversation about Greendale’s newly discovered rat infestation.

“Well…do you have a speaker in here, Jeffery? We could use some music to set the mood,” Craig asked, attempting to distract the group before Duncan could whisk Jeff off to City College.

“We might. Were you intending to connect your phone to the aux or…?”

“I was. I have a very nice party mix on my Spotify account, thank you very much,” Craig said, almost indignantly.

Jeff hid a chuckle, suddenly very interested in what this party mix may contain. “Sure. It’s over by the TV,” he said, pointing to the small speaker system across the room. The Dean nodded appreciatively and sauntered over to plug his phone in.

“You have no idea what you’ve just subjected us all to,” Duncan said, his expression laced with visible and earnest fear.

“Oh, I have some idea. Lots of Lady Gaga. He’s been working on his impersonation skills, you know,” Chang said casually.

Jeff wanted to ask somewhere between one and a dozen clarifying questions about that statement, but Bad Romance came blasting through the speakers before he could.

Britta and Annie emerged from the blonde’s room, barely poking their heads out of the doorway in order to survey the area.

“Are we having a dance party up in here?” Britta asked, sounding far too impressed.

“We can,” the Dean said, already setting about pushing Jeff’s coffee table against the wall in order to clear a space.

Duncan shook his head at the mild chaos of the room. Britta pulled Annie with her onto the makeshift dance floor, the pair giggling as they began to jokingly slow dance to the upbeat pop song. Craig wasted no time getting into character, joining in with a seemingly rehearsed routine.

“C’mon, Ian! Let’s go live it up!” Chang prodded, standing up and beckoning for Duncan to follow.

“Oh no, I don’t think so."

“But it’s your last night here! And I don’t want to get stuck dancing with the Dean! Just…go stand out there with me?” Chang asked, almost pouting, “Plus, maybe one of the girls will dance with you,” he added, gesturing to where Britta and Annie were twirling each other around.

Duncan narrowed his eyes, but stood up anyway. “Fine. I’ll go stand in Jeff Winger’s living room with you,” he relented.

He gave Jeff a nervous half-smile as Chang led him over to the carpet, the two of them joining the rest of the group. Once they were gone, Jeff turned to Abed, smiling gently.

“Not a big dancer?”

“No, not really. Not anymore, at least,” he replied, looking off in the distance at nothing in particular.

Jeff nodded, topping off his glass before moving around the bar to sit next to Abed. “So…random question…”

“Random answer,” Abed replied quickly, a thin smile spreading across his face.

Jeff chuckled, shaking his head. “Good one. But, for real, what did you mean by what you said earlier? That Britta and I are still trying to spin off?” he asked.

“You really don’t see it?” Abed asked in return.

“No. Enlighten me.”

Jeff slid onto the barstool next to his friend, placing his drink on the counter and looking at Abed with genuine curiosity.

“At the end of last year, you two got engaged,” Abed started to explain, “You were looking for a way to continue our show on your own, independently from Greendale. Moving in together accomplishes the same goal. It gives you an environment separate from the school where you can interact with each other and occasionally feature the other characters in our rotating cast.”

“We’re not on a TV show, Abed,” Jeff grumbled.

“I know that. I know that you know that I know that,” Abed replied, pointing between him and Jeff with each pronoun, “I just like to analyze our lives as if we were.”

Jeff sighed, running his hands through his hair in mild frustration. “I do know that. But what does all this spin off stuff mean for us?”

“I fear that you and Britta will begin to isolate yourselves from the rest of us. The group dynamic will be negatively affected, and your plot lines will become derivative.”

“Derivative?”

Abed squinted and tilted his head to one side. “You are aware that you and Britta will likely fall into a litany of different romantic tropes, right?”

“I…no?” Jeff stammered.

“Jeff. There’s an undeniable will they/won’t they tension between you two. It came back stronger than ever last season-”

“Last year,” Jeff interjected.

“...culminating in a proposal. A definitive ‘they will’ that would give your spin off appeal to some viewers while alienating others,” Abed concluded.

“What does that have to do with us living together?”

“You broke off the engagement. But I know you two. You probably didn’t discuss your feelings about it in any meaningful way and just walked away, didn’t you?” Abed asked.

Jeff thought for a moment. “I mean…yeah.”

“Right. So all of your feelings are still sitting there, entirely unresolved. And now you’ll be spending a lot of time in close proximity, together, outside of Greendale. It’s a situation that’s primed for you to have a season full of frustrating tension and romantic tropes that lead nowhere because you two are simply... _you_.”

“Well, what do you want us to do about it, Abed?! I can’t have Britta go back to sleeping in the streets,” Jeff exclaimed, tossing his hands up in frustration.

Abed pursed his lips in concentration. “Nothing. You don’t have to do anything. It’s not a spin off that I would watch,” he said, following it with a deep sigh, “but if it works for you two, then it works.”

“Good. Great,” Jeff grumbled. He turned his upper body away from Abed and back towards the counter, absentmindedly swirling what remained of his scotch around in its glass.

“There is a slightly alternate path, though,” Abed said after a moment of silence.

“And that is?”

“You can avoid the long, drawn out romantic subplot. Talk about your feelings like adults. If you enter into a relationship early in the season, you’ll utilize a whole different set of tropes, sure, but tropes aren’t necessarily a bad thing. Especially if they're ones that are new to you,” he suggested.

Jeff looked down. Talk about his feelings? He didn't have feelings. None for Britta, at least. None that he didn't have for any of the rest of his friends.

 _"I would have panic-proposed to anyone in that room,"_ he reasoned, _"Those weren't feelings for Britta talking. But...were they?"_

“I don’t know if I can do that.”

“What, talk about your feelings? I know that’s historically been your greatest vice, but-”

“Abed, I don’t know what my feelings are. I don’t know why I proposed to her. Or broke off the engagement. Or was so eager about her moving in here semi-permanently,” he said.

“Oh. In that case…I guess you have no choice but to let the season play out,” Abed said, sounding almost deflated.

“I guess I don’t.”

Jeff drank the rest of his scotch in one gulp as Abed silently pondered on their current predicament.

“You know…” he started, “I know that I thought your engagement was an attempt to spin off, and that by proxy, this was a similar act of desperation. But maybe you two are only been able to be emotionally honest with each other while under pressure.”

Jeff raised an eyebrow. “Elaborate.”

“Think about how many times you’ve almost gotten married. Three, right? And each time was under more dire circumstances, each one closer to becoming a reality. I don’t think that your attempts to pair off were because of the stress. I think that the stress gave you an excuse to acknowledge your want to be paired off. Does that make sense?”

“...a little too much sense. I need another drink,” Jeff said, getting up to circle around the bar and fix himself one.

“Hey,” Abed said, reaching across the bar and placing a hand on Jeff’s in an unusual display of affection, “don’t overthink it. Or worry about it. Everything will work out, one way or another. I'm sorry if my concern for our formula got in the way of you enjoying yourself tonight.”

Jeff smiled, placing his free hand on top of Abed’s. “Thanks, Abed. I won’t worry about it anymore. It’s our last night of freedom before the new semester, after all,” he said, a little too cheerfully. 

Abed smiled back, his hand retreating so that Jeff could pour his drink.

As the scotch sloshed out of the bottle and into the glass, he caught a glimpse of Britta, dancing along to an ABBA song with the rest of their friends in a way that only she could make look cool.

 _“What a dork,”_ he thought, smiling to himself as he corked the bottle, _"I totally haven't made a_ huge _mistake."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, please leave any thoughts/opinions/etc. down below! 
> 
> I'm really excited to continue to work on this, but heads up that I don't have an update schedule in mind. I'm in college and will have more consistent employment in the coming months, so this will be an 'updated as I have time' sort of thing.
> 
> also, shoutout to Annie's wlwerewolves for helping me out with the title and letting me throw ideas for this project out into the universe! sending much love to everyone reading this, but a little bit extra goes to them. thanks for putting up with my shenanigans <3


	2. Paradigm Shifts and Changes to the Formula

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dean tells the Save Greendale Committee that they'll be getting a new member. Predictably, they take this news _super_ well.

“Can you turn the radio down? This isn’t helping my headache,” Britta grumbled.

“I find that the dulcet tones of Craig and Judy from ‘Mornings with Craig and Judy’ have the opposite effect on me,” Jeff said, giving her a sideways smirk. She glared back, causing him to laugh before obliging.

“I hate that I have to be at Greendale so early,” she whined, sinking into the Lexus' upholstered leather seat.

“I hate that _I_ have to be at Greendale so early. For the second year in a row.”

He started drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, Craig and Judy having taken a break so that the station could play an upbeat Jason Derulo song. 

“Ugh. _And_ this guy is the worst,” Britta grumbled.

“Who, this guy?” Jeff asked, turning the radio back up so that it was louder than before.

“Yes, this guy! The way he talks about women in his songs is so dehumanizing!”

Happy to have found one of Britta’s buttons, Jeff couldn’t help but to keep on pressing it.

“But…girl,” he said in a dramatic tone, turning his head to the side to give her an overly forlorn gaze, “You’re the one I want to want me.”

Britta rolled her eyes and somehow sunk further into the passenger’s seat. “We know there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to get up next to me,” she mumbled, reciting the next line of the song.

Jeff tried not to think about the little pang in his chest at how she said the line. It was just a continuation of a joke that _he_ made, and what was there to even be upset about? He turned the radio back down, no longer amused by the velvety pipes of Jason Derulo.

“So…with Duncan gone, do you know who your new psych professor will be?”

“No clue. To be honest, I don’t think the Dean has hired anyone yet. I might hold off on taking any more psych classes until I know that he has that whole mess sorted.”

“Isn’t it a little late to change your schedule?”

“It’s Greendale, Jeff. It’s never too late to change your schedule.”

He thought for a moment before nodding, finding himself unable to disagree with her. They turned into the Greendale faculty parking lot, Jeff scanning the area for an open space.

“Is it just me, or does everyone look a little more…panicked than usual?” Britta asked, pointing at a large group of people that had gathered in the quad.

Jeff looked up as he pulled into a space, finding that he couldn’t disagree with Britta once again.

“Yeah. Yeah, they do.”

The pair quickly rolled out of his car and collected their things, eager to see what all the fuss was about. Britta waited by the front of the car for Jeff before going over to join the group that had congregated in the open space.

“What are we to do? What are we to dooooo?!?!” Vicki wailed, her exclamation causing Jeff and Britta’s faces to contort with alarm.

“What are we to do about what?” Britta inquired. 

“The roof! Haven’t you heard?”

Britta looked over to Jeff, exchanging a nervous glance with him before turning back to their former classmate.

“No, what happened to the roof?”

“It pop-popped.”

The pair whipped around to see Magnitude slumped over on a bench to their left, wiping his eyes and barely holding it together.

“Okay, someone here is going to have to be more specific,” Jeff insisted, quickly growing impatient.

“You know how there were all the old frisbees up on the roof?” Vicki asked.

“...were?” Britta squeaked.

Her classmate nodded. “There must have been one too many. The roof collapsed and they’ve flooded one of the hallways. Now there’s just…styrofoam and frisbees everywhere.”

“Styrofoam?” Jeff asked incredulously.

“Yeah. Apparently it made up 80% of the roof.”

Britta grabbed Jeff by the arm and tugged on it urgently. “Jeff, we’ve got to go talk to the committee. I think…taking care of the frisbees might have been on our to-do list.”

His eyes flashed with panic. “I think you’re right. We’ve gotta go.”

Without further discussion, they took off towards the library, running as fast as two 30 and 40-somethings could on a dreary Monday morning. However, the compact design of the campus ensured that it wasn’t long before they were rushing up the stairs and through the front doors, entering Study Room F to find the rest of their group already congregated around the table.

“Well, well, look who showed up flushed and sweaty and _together_ ,” Chang teased, wagging his finger at the pair.

“Knock it off, what do you guys know about the roof?” Jeff said urgently, jerking his chair out from underneath the table and taking a seat. Britta attempted to remain more calm and collected, moving extraordinarily slow as she sat down and stashed her bags underneath her chair. 

“It was written on a star…we were supposed to fix it…but we missed it…” Annie muttered cryptically, staring blankly down at the study room table.

Britta let out a noise of disbelief and buried her head in her hands. “God, I can’t believe that the roof collapsed…it could have killed someone!” she exclaimed. 

“If they blame us for this, let me take the heat. I’ll never see the inside of a cell,” Chang insisted with entirely undeserved confidence.

“How do you know that? Have you been on trial before?” Abed asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“Does it matter if we’d see jail time or not?! It’s still our fault, and that could weigh on our conscience forever!” Annie insisted.

Jeff sighed, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. Remaining the level-headed voice of reason and weighing all aspects of the situation while the group worked themselves into hysterics wasn't as easy as it looked. 

“Guys, this is not on us. That roof was gonna collapse no matter what. Vicki said that 80% of the rubble was styrofoam.”

The group fell silent and directed their nervous gazes towards him.

“Are you sure? I’d written ‘the frisbee problem’ on a star last year, Jeff. It was on our wall of things to do as a committee! Sure, it got lost behind a pile of books, but it was there,” Annie explained, sounding nearly desperate.

“Yeah, remember what I said before we got here?! I _knew_ that we were supposed to do something about the frisbees,” Britta said, her tone a little too triumphant.

“Well, I-”

“Good mor- _dean_!”

Jeff turned around to see an all-too familiar face, accompanied by one that wasn’t familiar at all.

“That one was a stretch,” he grumbled.

The Dean ignored Jeff’s snide comment and pressed on. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet Francesca Dart. I have brought her on as an administrative consultant. I thought it would be fun, and, um, mandatory, for you to add her to your little committee,” he said, gesturing to the brunette standing beside him.

“Why, because one roof collapsed?!” Annie asked indignantly. Jeff reached out in an attempt to calm her down, noticing the tell-tale signs of an Annie under intense guilt and pressure that might burst at any moment. She pulled away from him before he could touch her, keeping her steely gaze locked on the Dean.

“No! God no. I’m your friend! Bringing you a new friend! One with training in not collapsing roofs,” he insisted.

“Is she- excuse me, ma’am,” Britta started, gesturing to the consultant and shifting to face the Dean, “is she above us or below us?” she asked softly, miming ‘above’ and ‘below’ with one hand.

“She is- whoa! Am I getting a call? That’s…that’s crazy, this early in the morning? Anyway, Frankie, why don’t you explain, uh, what your role will be while I leave to take this call,” the Dean said, beginning to slowly back out of the room and fish around in his pockets for a phone that Jeff was certain wasn’t actually there.

“My phone is vibrating, it is-”

“In your office, which you didn’t realize when you started the fake phone call move,” Jeff interjected, earning a stern glare from Britta.

“My phone is in my pocket, Jeffrey! I’m walking away so I can get it out and answer it,” Craig said indignantly.

Jeff chuckled and shook his head as the Dean disappeared, knowing that he likely wouldn’t be back any time soon.

“Okay!” the new consultant said cheerfully, circling around the table towards Annie, “I’ll just have a seat and-”

“Hey!”

“No!”

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

She looked at the group curiously, her hand pulling itself away from Shirley’s former chair.

“Our friend used to sit there,” Annie said curtly.

“She spun off,” Abed whispered.

“I’m sorry, what about here?” Frankie asked, gesturing to the chair formerly known as Pierce’s.

Britta shrugged. “Yeah,” she said flippantly, leaning back in her seat again.

“I guess that’s okay,” Annie said softly.

Frankie nodded, taking a seat and producing a plain black binder from her bag. Annie almost gasped at the sight, rushing to pull out her own binder - decorated with purple fur and several large flowers - and set it on the table. She smoothed the fur on the front cover while the rest of the group eyed their newest member with a healthy amount of suspicion.

“Okay, so, I took an informal survey to get a sense of how Greendale is perceived and three themes emerged: weird, passionate, and gross,” Frankie started, wasting no time at all, “Now, you wanna hang onto that grouping. If I had a magic wand, I’d use it to make sure Greendale never had to grow up. I would also probably use it to cut the magic wand class that I noticed is actually offered here, as well as VCR repair, a class called Ladders, and When Is It Okay to Shake a Baby.”

“Hey! That last class was very useful to me,” Chang protested, narrowing his eyes at her.

“I’m…sure it was,” she replied, giving him a sideways glance before continuing.

“You all should know that in terms of hierarchy, I’m a big believer in it. Someone needs to say ‘I’m in charge’ and that person is me. That’s my decision,” Frankie paused to stand up, looking around the table at everyone’s still angered expressions, “That doesn’t mean that we don’t work together! But all communications and decisions will go through me. I’ll send out an email later to set up our next meeting.”

“Awesome,” Annie said with a half-hearted smile, her tone matching her expression.

The others murmured similar sentiments as she collected her bag and strolled out of the study room. Jeff’s brow furrowed the moment that she was out of their line of sight, already attempting to formulate a plan to get rid of this new committee member. 

“What in the crazy bitch-?” Britta spat the moment that Frankie stepped out of the library.

“Did that just happen?” Jeff asked.

“Did you _see_ her binder? Ha. Ha! Pretty nondescript,” Annie said, patting her own fuzzy floral one for emphasis.

“It seems like she may be trouble,” Abed noted.

“And all of this because one little sticky note fell behind a stack of books,” Britta grumbled.

Abed hummed in consideration. “To be fair, that error almost cost Garrett his life. Maybe some extra help could be useful.”

“Who are you and what did you do with Abed? Since when are you comfortable with change?” Jeff asked.

He shrugged. “I’m not comfortable with it, but I occasionally see where it may be necessary.”

 _“Like in me and Britta’s dynamic?”_ Jeff thought, a piece of their conversation from the previous night echoing around in his mind. He shook his head to clear any stray thoughts and focus on things like roofs and administrative consultants again.

“Well, I for one think that we shouldn’t go down without a fight. This is Greendale, after all! Since when has anyone _ever_ told us what to do?!” Britta asked, pounding her fist against the table. Annie nodded solemnly, murmuring in agreement.

Chang raised his hand, waiting for Britta to point to him before he began to speak. “Um, you guys. You told me what to do. That one time? When I tried to take control of the school?”

Jeff stared at him in disbelief for a moment. “Chang, you staged a military coup with middle schoolers and tried to kill us. I’d say that’s a special circumstance.”

“Whatever, Winger. Point still stands.”

Britta cocked her head to the side as if to say _“does it?”_ before carrying on with her speech. “Anyway, we need to stand up for ourselves! For our group and for our school!”

“Absolutely,” Annie said, beaming.

“We just keep finding new ways to save Greendale, don’t we?” Abed mused, sounding more than a little annoyed.

Jeff sighed. “I don’t think there will ever be a day where it doesn’t need saving.”

\---

If there was one thing Britta knew for certain in the midst of all of the change in her personal and professional lives, it was that she hated working Shirley’s sandwich counter.

It wasn't that she hated working for her friend or that she didn't _want_ to do a good job. But put simply, she just wasn't good at making sandwiches. Over the course of one four hour shift, she pushed the boundaries of sandwich art; finding new ways to burn bread, melting cheese all over the bottom of the oven, and learning that lettuce had an expiration date. After only one day of work, she felt almost completely and utterly hopeless. Not to mention the fact that there was now an overzealous administrative-something-or-other roaming the halls of Greendale that Britta knew they’d have to deal with sooner rather than later.

The rest of Greendale’s students were long gone as she was closing up for the day. In between putting away utensils and throwing out the rest of the lettuce, her phone started buzzing and playing its generic ringtone. She huffed, quickly stuffing the lettuce into the trash can before pulling her phone out to check the caller ID. Upon seeing who it was, her face relaxed into a soft smile and she answered it as fast as possible. 

“Hey, Shirley! How’s it going?”

“Hello, Bri-ta! Oh, it’s nice to hear your voice!”

Britta hopped up onto the counter behind her and leaned against the wall, letting her legs dangle over the edge.

“It’s nice to hear yours, too.”

“How was your first day working at Shirley’s Sandwiches?” her friend asked.

“It was…” Britta trailed off, her gaze drifting down to the trash can where a pile of her failed sandwiches resided, “not great. But I’m sure it’ll get better! I’m just…very new to this.”

“You’d better not lose any of my regular customers,” Shirley said in a vaguely threatening tone.

“I…” Britta started, her voice cracking on the syllable. She accidentally let out an a small cry, causing her hand to fly up and cover her mouth, suddenly feeling the hot prick of tears beginning to build behind her eyes.

“Oh, sweetie! I meant that as a joke. There’s a learning curve to professional sandwich making, for sure, but I wouldn’t have put you in charge if I didn’t trust your ability to do the job right,” Shirley assured her.

Britta looked down at the counter, flicking a few crumbs off of the edge. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do. There’s no one else I’d trust to do it. What was I going to do, put Jeffery in charge?”

Both women laughed at the notion, Britta unable to stop herself from imagining what Jeff would look like in her burgundy uniform.

“Well, um, anyway…how’s your dad?”

“Better. I’m glad that I can be here to help him,” Shirley said.

“That’s good. I’m glad you can be there, too.”

“Tell me, how’s Greendale? I talked to Annie earlier today, and she seemed upset about the new girl.”

“Who, Frankie?” Britta asked.

“Mhm. Said that the Dean hired her to come in and change everything.”

“Yeah. Don’t worry, we won’t let her.”

“Of course. I have no doubt about it.”

“Uh huh! I-”

She was interrupted by someone clearing their throat. Britta looked up to see Jeff standing in front of the counter with his jacket in hand, the singular light on in the cafeteria casting an almost-halo around him.

“You ready to go, Britts?”

She nodded, sliding off of the counter. 

“Britta? Are you still there?” Shirley asked. 

“Yeah! Yeah, Jeff just showed up. I can put you on speakerphone if you want to say hi,” Britta offered.

 _“Who is it?”_ Jeff mouthed, somewhat concerned.

 _“Shirley,”_ Britta mouthed back. His face lit up, nodding eagerly to give her permission.

“Ooo, yes! I’d love to!” Shirley squealed. 

“Alright, one sec,” Britta said, pulling the phone away from her face to put it on speaker. She held it up between her and Jeff, stepping closer to him so that he’d be able to talk into the microphone.

“Shirley?”

“Jeffery?”

“Hey, Shirley! How’s Atlanta?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s nice. My dad came out of his surgery just fine, he should be back on his feet in a few weeks.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Britta took another step closer to Jeff, hoisting the phone slightly above her head so that it was closer to his face than hers. He tried not to chuckle at the sight, Britta giving him an annoyed frown and a frustrated huff.

“Has the school day ended yet? I’m still figuring out the time difference,” Shirley asked. 

“Yeah. Britta was just closing up the sandwich counter when I came to get her so we can go home,” Jeff answered.

Her eyes widened and she flared her nostrils at him. He gave her a confused look that was quickly replaced with sudden recognition flashing across his face.

“...go home? Like, together?”

“Uh, I…kinda sorta got asked to leave my apartment because I couldn’t pay for it? So I’m staying with Jeff until I can get my own place,” Britta explained.

“Oh. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s worked for An-nie and Abed, hasn’t it?” Shirley said, taking the news far better than Britta thought she might.

“Yeah! Exactly.” 

“You two aren’t still getting married, are you?” Shirley asked, her tone coming across like she was trying too hard to sound innocent and unaware, even with the slight audio distortion. 

Britta’s gaze darted down to the floor, feeling her face beginning to flush. She dared to look up after a moment of silence, seeing that Jeff was also gazing in the same direction, but not quite at the floor. Her mouth moved to form some kind of response to their friend’s question, her mind drawing a blank as she looked into Jeff’s dark blue eyes.

“I…”

“We’re not. We’re not…together,” Jeff replied.

The silence from their friend spoke volumes.

“I see. That’s a shame, I’ve got a Pinterest board full of wedding ideas that are just waiting to be used,” she said, eventually breaking the silence.

Both Jeff and Britta laughed a little too loud in response, using it as an excuse to break eye contact with one another.

“Yeah, well…I’m sure there will be, like…someone else’s wedding,” Britta said.

Jeff smiled. “Mhm. Well, uh, I think we should probably get going,” he said, prompting Britta to wrap up the phone call.

“Of course! It was good to hear from you two,” Shirley said.

Britta nodded and lowered the phone so that it was closer to her face again. “Good to hear from you, too. Again, glad to hear that your dad is doing better.”

“Thank you! I’ll call again later this week to see how Shirley’s Sandwiches is doing.”

“Alright, looking forward to it! Bye, Shirley.”

“Bye, Bri-ta! Bye, Jeffery!”

Jeff let out a loud, long sigh before Britta could finish hanging up.

“Sorry, I hadn’t thought about the fact that we probably didn’t need to tell Shirley that you moved in with me."

Britta shrugged callously. “It’s alright, she seemed to take it just fine.”

“I know, just…you know…with _the incident_ and all.”

“I guess,” Britta mumbled. She was the one who had coined the phrase, but didn’t exactly like how it sounded coming out of his mouth. “Anyway, I’ll go get my stuff,” she added, darting behind the counter to grab her bag.

“Is that all you need to do?”

“Mhm. I’m ready to get home, have a glass of wine, and just pass out,” Britta said, coming back around the counter and sidling up next to Jeff.

“Right, we’ll need to get a good night’s sleep if we’re going to follow through on all your revolutionary plans to overthrow Frankie,” Jeff teased, nudging her in the side as they began to stroll out of the cafeteria.

Britta nudged him back. “As much as it pains me to say, I may have to put ‘leading a revolution’ on hold until I can learn how to stop burning bread.”

“That’s easy. Just stop putting the sandwiches in the oven for so long.”

“But I’m following Shirley’s guidelines! I have no idea how it’s even happening.”

Jeff rolled his eyes. “Sure, sure. I’m sure.”

“I’m serious…” Britta grumbled.

“Hey,” he said, resting his hand on her shoulder, “Don't sweat it. You'll get better with practice. Everything will get better soon, I’m sure.

Britta gave him a curious look. “What’s gotten into you?” 

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you being so…nice? And genuine, all of a sudden?”

Jeff did his best to maintain a neutral expression, but couldn’t stop the smallest smile from spreading across his face.

“I don’t know. You seemed genuinely upset, so making fun of you more wasn’t going to change anything now. Figured I should at least _try_ to help," he said, " _And_ that I should hold onto my best zingers."

Britta gave an exasperated sigh, causing Jeff to laugh. His hand trailed down her arm, drifting back to his rest at his side. They continued walking out of the cafeteria and onto the quad, their steps slowly falling in sync. At some point, the back of Britta’s hand accidentally brushed against his, neither one of them immediately moving to break the contact.

She wasn’t quite sure which one of them reached around to lace their fingers together first. She wasn’t quite sure if it mattered, even a little.

\---

The next morning, Britta stumbled out of bed a few minutes later than she had intended to and dragged herself to the bathroom, dismayed to find that the door was locked.

“Jeff? Hey, Jeff?” she called, frantically knocking on the door, “Can I come in?”

“...just a minute.”

“Are you naked?”

“No.”

Britta huffed. “Okay, cool, then let me in! I just need to grab my hairbrush, I’ll be in and out.”

“Yeah, but…uh…just give me a minute.”

“Jeff! Do you want us to be late, or do you want to let me into the bathroom so I can grab my hairbrush?!”

A moment of silence passed. “Uh…okay. Just promise that you won’t make fun of me?” 

“...depends.”

Jeff turned the knob and gave the door a light push, Britta letting it swing all the way open before entering. She took a singular step inside before stopping right in her tracks.

“Oh. Um…can I ask?” she asked, pointing to Jeff’s face.

“...it’s part of my skincare regimen,” he explained with a deep sigh, “Having ultra-soft skin is one of my trademarks, y’know?”

Britta did her best not to crack up at the sight of Jeff with sparkly pink goop spread across the upper half of his face, not wanting to shame him for daring to break outside of typical gender norms.

“Yup. No judgement here,” she said dismissively, stepping forward to grab her hairbrush off of the bathroom counter.

“Uh, you can stay in here to do your hair, if you want. Worst part’s over,” Jeff mumbled.

She smiled softly, deciding that it would be better to say nothing at all and go about her business.

_“Maybe he’s right. Things will get better soon.”_

\---

As it turned out, they were both wrong. That very same morning, the first thing they noticed upon arriving at Greendale was a large crew in orange vests unloading a large amount of equipment.

“Um…should we be worried about that?” Britta asked, pointing towards the scene and turning to look at Jeff.

“I mean…it depends.”

“Do you think that Frankie has something to do with it?”

Jeff narrowed his eyes at her. “Who else would hire professionals to do something at _Greendale_?”

Britta rolled her eyes l as he reached into the car to grab his jacket. 

“Well, anyway, we should go see if the rest of the committee knows anything about this,” she suggested.

Jeff nodded in agreement, circling around the car to join her in speed-walking to the library. When they reached the study room, they were surprised to see that Annie was the sole committee member sitting at their table.

“Jeff! Britta!” she exclaimed, leaping up out of her chair, “Do you guys know what’s going on out there?”

“No, do you?” Jeff asked.

Annie shook her head, looking sullenly down at the ground. “I don’t remember the last time I saw professional repairmen on campus.”

“I don’t think that I’ve _ever_ seen professional repairmen on campus,” Britta grumbled.

The trio was interrupted by the sound of someone humming, its source strolling into the room a moment later.

“Abed! Do you know why those repairmen are here?” Annie asked.

He nodded. “Yeah. They’re here to drain and clean the pool. Apparently, it hadn’t been cleaned in so long that it became its own ecosystem. Frankie said that there were so many fish and amphibians in there that we could start an aquarium,” he explained.

“Oh… _Frankie_ said that, huh…” Britta said, side-eyeing Abed.

“Well, how does she know that we _don’t_ want an aquarium instead of a swimming pool?!” Jeff exclaimed.

“I don’t know, maybe it’s because it’s because it was built to be a pool and most of the animals were dead, Jeff,” Abed said dryly.

Annie gave an annoyed huff and crossed her arms. “I thought she was on our committee! All school improvement decisions should be run by us!”

“She _is_ above us! That’s why the Dean avoided answering the question!” Britta exclaimed triumphantly.

Jeff gave her a half-confused look. “You’re just now figuring that out?”

Britta stuck her tongue out at him in response, unable to come up with a sufficiently witty retort.

“Are you all really this upset about Frankie hiring a crew to clean up Greendale’s pool so that it can be used as a pool again?” Abed asked.

His friends fell silent, all purposefully avoiding Abed's inquisitive gaze, Jeff and Annie both shuffling their feet around on the ground.

“I mean…when you put it that way, it sounds bad. What we’re against is her excluding us from the decision making process,” Jeff explained. Britta and Annie both looked up to nod in agreement.

“Alright. You should just say something to her about it. I’m sure-”

“If she’s above us, then she has no reason to listen to us! She’s like a government bureaucrat, why would she bend to the will of the people?” Britta interjected, the issue clearly striking a nerve with her.

“But what I’m trying to say is-”

“Yeah! We’ve gotta fight for the preservation of Greendale! We can’t let her change _anything_ else,” Annie added.

“Today, it’s draining a pool. Tomorrow, it could be tearing down this very library,” Britta said, stomping for emphasis. 

Abed sighed. “Alright, feel free to keep fighting Frankie. But your interests aren’t as different as you think. She only wants what’s best for Greendale.”

“What’s best for Greendale is that everything stays exactly the same,” Jeff said, “Annie and Britta are right. We have to fight for the very soul of our school.”

“Okay. Good luck with that.”

Abed turned away from his friends and walked out the back door of the study room with no further comments, leaving the trio standing in shock. Annie pivoted towards Jeff and Britta, looking at them in disbelief. 

“Um, guys? Are we doing the right thing?” she asked nervously.

Jeff nodded, staring at the back door of the study room. “Of course we are. And, on the gold statue of Luis Guzeman, we’re going to win this one.”

\---

Due to the recent propensity of the universe to do the opposite of whatever Jeff Winger claimed it would, a week passed with no progress made in their revolution.

In the span of only a week, Frankie had put about a dozen more Greendale improvement projects into motion. In that same amount of time, Britta still hadn’t managed to get much better at sandwich making, and students were beginning to whisper to one another that they should avoid the stand.

“It’s like we’re helpless, Jeff. Completely helpless!” she complained to him on a particularly slow day of working the counter. 

“That we are. It doesn’t help that Abed isn’t on our side anymore,” he grumbled, picking at the edge of the countertop that he was leaning on.

“I can’t believe that we just let this…this _outsider_ take away everything that we’ve worked so hard for! And, what all just because she’s smarter than us? And has more experience than us?” Britta exclaimed, waving her hands in the air. 

A thin smile spread across Jeff’s face as he watched her gripe. “I haven’t seen you this fired up in years.”

“I haven’t _been_ this fired up in years!”

“Is that why you keep burning all of the sandwiches you try to toast? Because you’re so fired up?”

Britta glared at Jeff as he gave her an overly broad grin, clearly pleased with himself and his joke. 

“Ha ha, very funny,” she scoffed.

He stood up straight and reached over to sock her on the arm, Britta dodging his half-hearted attack.

“I’ll have you know that I _am_ very funny, and that I’m gonna go get myself a drink. You want anything?” he asked.

“No, thanks. Working as a bartender for long enough kind of curbs your desire to drink. Especially while on the job.”

Jeff shrugged. “Alright, suit yourself,” he said, giving her a small wave and strolling off towards the faculty lounge.

Britta sighed and leaned forward onto the counter in front of her, rubbing her temples in frustration.

 _“Who am I kidding, things are never gonna get better,”_ she thought, _“There’s no way that-”_

“Um, hi?”

She looked up to see a student standing in front of the counter, tugging nervously on the strap of her backpack.

“Oh! Hi! What can I get you?” she asked, bolting upwards to attention.

“Can I get a toasted ham sandwich on rye?”

Britta tried to hide her contempt for the customer’s request for a toasted sandwich and nodded. “Of course, coming right up.”

\---

Naturally, the sandwich turned out to be a smoldering, charred hunk of bread, meat, cheese, and wilted vegetables. The student took one look at it and ran away without another word, causing Britta to slump over onto the counter in desperation.

_“Who am I kidding, I’m hurting Shirley more than I’m helping her! I-"_

“Britta…what is the weekly cost of this restaurant?”

She looked up to see the dreaded administrative consultant that she'd been doing a good job of avoiding. She stuffed down her instinctual rage and plastered the most sarcastic smile she could muster on her face.

“Oh, that’s easy, my dignity!”

“It seems like this sandwich counter is taking your happiness and converting it into burnt bread and debt,” Frankie observed.

Britta couldn’t stop her mouth from hanging open as she stared pointedly at the other woman.

“...so?”

Frankie was about to explain when Jeff jogged over to the counter with the urgency of a man whose house was on fire, stopping once he was right beside her.

“Frankie, hi! Um, someone removed all the liquor from the faculty lounge,” he said.

She sighed and turned away from Britta to look at him. “I’m sorry, but I cannot legally protect or insure a campus with free flowing booze.”

Jeff cracked an irritated smile. “Well, I can’t teach with free flowing sobriety.”

“Is that true? Do you really think you’re an addict?” Frankie asked, her demeanor shifting to become gravely serious.

“...no?”

“He’s not, I promise! Nine times out of ten, he’s as sober as the day he was born. That was just a joke, right Jeff?” Britta jumped in, doing her best to defend him.

“Right,” he affirmed, quickly flashing her a grateful smile.

“Well, I’m available any time-”

“Frankie, Frankie! Hi,” Annie interrupted, running up behind the brunette, fuzzy binder in hand, “I haven't seen you lately since you haven't called any committee meetings! But, I thought you'd like to know, I had an idea about how to de-electrify the pool, now that it’s been cleaned-”

“Oh, that’s already been dealt with,” Frankie said dismissively.

Annie’s face fell. “Okay, well then, there’s…” she said, setting the binder down on the counter and dramatically flipping it open.

Frankie moved in closer to look over Annie’s list of potential projects. “Oh, let’s see…done. Done. Deloused, appraised, defused, rebuilt, de-peanut-buttered, debunked, spayed, neutered, underway, re-sanctified, plunged, and exhumed.” She ran down the list with her finger, verbally marking each and every one as completed. Britta looked nervously up at Jeff, each of Frankie’s words delivering a new blow to their cause. 

The consultant flipped the binder shut, pausing as she turned to walk away. “Oh, this is pretty,” she said, pointing to the large orange flower that adorned the front cover.

The trio watched her stroll away, each of them seething in contempt.

“I’m gonna name one of my sandwiches after her. Because they suck,” Britta said decisively.

“I mean…maybe Abed has a point. She _is_ improving Greendale…” Annie said, gazing wistfully after Frankie.

“Yeah, but how much can you improve Greendale before it stops being Greendale? This is exactly what we were worried about last week!” Jeff said, leaning in closer to both Annie and Britta, “She didn’t suffer for this place. She doesn’t understand it. She’s gonna end up messing with something that can’t be repaired.”

Britta gave a deep sigh. “So, what do we do about it?”

“Step number one, we need to get Abed back on our side. Annie, can you text him to get down here?” Jeff requested.

“On it.”

“Step two, instead of having all of these vague notions of revolution, we should officially form a separate secret committee dedicated to undoing the damage that Frankie’s done, and preventing her from doing anymore.”

Britta cocked her head to the side. “And how are we gonna do that?” 

Jeff shrugged. “Don’t know. That’s what the committee’s for,” he said, chuckling at the annoyed eye roll that his dismissal prompted from Britta.

“Do you think that Abed would actually join this secret committee? He seemed to have his mind made up, he made me agree to not talk about Greendale business at home to preserve order and our friendship,” Annie said.

“Well, I guess we’ll never know until we try.”

\---

Maybe opening with “Frankie’s taking over the campus!” wasn’t the smartest decision on their part. But, maybe Annie had been right, and nothing would have convinced Abed to join them.

“She’s nice to me. In fact, we kind of get along. We’ve been eating lunch together for the past few days,” he protested.

“Well, we’re making a secret, separate committee!” Britta said, leaping off of the table that she’d been perched on. She stuck her hand out in front of her, hoping the others would join in.

Annie reached out to place her hand on top of Britta’s. “Yeah! And we’d really like you to join us, Abed."

"Join you in doing what? Didn't you already decide to take a stand against Frankie last week?" he asked.

“Yeah, well, now we’re fighting to preserve the real Greendale, oppose Frankie, or drink. Whichever’s easiest, at this point. I’ve decided to manage my expectations for what we can accomplish. Plus we don't have a plan yet, so we'll take what we can get,” Jeff added, moving his hand up so that it was under Britta’s.

Abed glanced over the group, a sad sort of look on his face. “Are you guys sure she’s bad? Are you sure that you’re not doing what I usually do and overreacting to change?”

“What is it with you and change again? That’s the third time in the past two weeks,” Jeff grumbled.

“Third time?” Britta asked, staring at him with confusion. Jeff replied with a nearly imperceptible shake of his head, hoping to dismiss the question.

“I don’t know. Maybe I realized that with so many of our friends gone, our formula can never be the same. Maybe I realized that variety can be nice, and that I actually like not living the same day over and over again. Or maybe, I just grew up. Either way, Frankie isn’t the villain that you want to believe she is. You just can’t accept that sometimes, things change,” Abed said, looking around the circle and making eye contact with each one of his friends, “And that’s okay. I’ll let you form your secret committee and keep up this resistance so that you can process everything that’s happening. Whenever you’re ready, there will always be a seat for you at the study room table.”

His friends fell silent, looking down at their hands, feeling equal parts shame and frustration.

“Well…screw you, Abed! I don’t remember you being the one training to be a therapist,” Jeff remarked snidely.

“Listen, you can still join us! It’s just a blood oath to defy evil, you don’t have to make it so dramatic,” Britta said without a hint of irony.

Abed considered her proposition for a moment. “Can I hang around if I don’t do the oath? Can we still be friends?”

“I mean…sure. But we’re having a secret committee meeting right now. And only committee members are allowed back here,” Jeff said matter-of-factly.

“Okay. Cool, cool. Cool, cool, cool,” Abed replied, “Then I’ll go. I’ll see you around.”

As he turned and walked away, Annie gave a squeak of dismay.

“I think that I should go after him. This isn’t fun anymore, you guys.”

Britta and Jeff looked at one another with furrowed brows, trying to figure out what to say.

“I mean…”

“Yeah. Go,” Britta interrupted, waving her away. Annie nodded and took off after him, practically throwing her glass at Britta on her way out. The remaining secret committee members stood in silence for a moment, each looking down at the glasses in their hands.

“We’re gonna be fine, right?” Britta piped up.

“Mhm,” Jeff muttered absently, knocking back the rest of his whiskey, “Everything’s gonna be totally fine.”

\---

That night, Britta found herself unable to fall asleep, the events of the day weighing heavily on her. Had it really been justified to jeopardize their friendship with Abed in order to fight this perceived evil? Was she only dedicated to fighting Frankie because she missed her anarchist days and wanted a taste of rebellion? And, worst of all, might Abed be right about the rest of them being scared of change?

She wasn’t exactly sure what pulled her out of bed, but she soon found herself standing in the living room of the apartment with the vague notion of wandering into the kitchen to get a glass of water. However, instead of following through on that thought, Britta ended up standing in front of Jeff’s bedroom, staring at the door.

 _“It’s almost 2 in the morning. There’s no way he’s awake,”_ she thought, _“but I could still knock. If he’s asleep, it won’t wake him up. And if he isn’t…”_

She balled her hand into a fist and slowly raised it up, holding her breath as she gave two soft knocks to the doorframe.

A moment passed with total silence. No signs of movement, no indication that Jeff was coming to greet her.

Britta sighed. _“Why did I even want to talk to him in the first place? That was stupid.”_ She took a step back and swiveled around to head for her room. It was only another second before she stopped dead in her tracks at the sound of the door knob turning and the door creaking open.

“Britts? Is that you?”

She chuckled softly. “Who else would it be?”

Jeff rubbed at his eyes, blinking a few times to focus his vision. “Dunno. I was worried that Chang might have snuck in again.”

“Fair enough. Did I wake you up? I’m so-”

“No, no you didn’t. I couldn’t really get to sleep, I was just kind of lying in the dark,” Jeff interjected.

Britta gave him a soft smile. “Me too. I, uh…I kind of just wanted to talk to someone. And you were here, so I wanted to see if you were up, too.”

“Mhm. Do you want to come in?” Jeff asked, pushing the door open wider and gesturing inside.

“Sure, sure.”

She walked through the doorway, standing uncomfortably in the middle of the room as she waited for Jeff to close the door and join her. Despite having lived with him for almost two weeks now, she hadn’t yet gotten a good look at his room.

It was immensely tidy and color coordinated - which was to be expected from a guarded person like him, honestly - but Britta thought that there was a certain sadness to it when taken in all at once. The bedspread, the rug, the dresser, and the lamp were all various cool-toned neutral colors. The knick-knacks were sparse, the only visible clutter being a pair of slippers next to his bed, a few lotions and assorted other bottles on the top of his dresser, and an alarm clock on his side table. A rectangular mirror above the dresser was the only thing hung on any of the walls, leaving Britta to stare back at her own sad reflection.

Jeff cleared his throat to get her attention. “You can come sit on my bed, if you’d like. If that’s not weird.”

“Of course,” she said, looking away as if she'd been caught doing something that she wasn't supposed to. 

Jeff sat down near the head of the bed, leaving Britta to take the space at the foot of it. She pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around them, essentially curling herself up into a ball.

“So…what did you want to talk about?” Jeff asked.

“Um, do you maybe think that, uh…Abed might be right?”

He stared at her blankly for a moment.

“About?”

“Everything. About Frankie, about Greendale, about us being…afraid of change.”

Jeff looked down at his dark gray bedspread, smoothing his hand over a non-existent wrinkle. “What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know, I just started thinking, and-”

“That’s dangerous.”

Britta gave an exasperated huff. “I _know_ , but I did, okay? And, uh, I think that I wanted to fight Frankie just because I wanted to fight _something_. Like, to feel young again or something like that.”

Jeff considered her explanation for a moment. “But you were so passionate about it. That couldn’t have all been because of that.”

“Right. It’s also because I didn’t want anything to change. _We_ didn't want anything to change.”

“You better not be trying to therapize both of us at 2 am,” Jeff grumbled, leaning back so that he was reclined against his pillows.

“I’m not, I swear! I just…had a weird moment of clarity and was trying to figure out why we chose cleaning a pool and fixing some broken lights as the things to take a stand against,” Britta said.

“I mean, we’re fighting for the soul of Greendale, right? Greendale's never had a clean pool! Or working lights!”

“Yeah, but don’t you think that there might be a chance that we deluded ourselves into thinking that the ‘soul of Greendale’ was in dirty pools and dead frogs and black mold and whatever else Frankie was fixing?”

Jeff stared at his beige wall in silence for a moment. “I suppose. But…”

“But?”

“I’m not scared of change. Never have been,” he insisted, “I mean, think about how much has changed over the past few years! Pierce died, Troy left to sail around the world, Shirley moved…I’m a teacher, for fuck’s sake! And I’ve been _so_ cool with all of that change.”

“Uh huh. That’s why you have to drink in order to teach,” Britta said dryly.

“Okay, _Frankie._ If you're gonna berate me, just leave.”

Britta shook her head. “No. No, that's not what I want to do. I really did want to talk to you just because I’m upset. Regardless of who's right, I don’t think we’ve been very good friends to Abed over this past week. But I also think that we might have picked the wrong side. Maybe the right side isn’t a side at all. Either way…I know that _I_ haven’t been handling everything happening very well."

"I think we've been handling everything great," Jeff said dryly.

She ignored his comment and pressed on. "I mean, it makes sense why we were so eager to fight and save what we can of old Greendale. We barely got time to process Troy leaving before Shirley packed up and moved too! It’s just us and Annie and Abed left. And we can’t afford to be mad at each other over stupid shit like this."

“It’s not stupid shit, it’s about maintaining the sanctity of Greendale!”

“What fucking sancitity, Jeff?! Since when do you care?” 

“It’s the only home I’ve ever had, Britta!”

Both of them stared at each other for a moment in complete and total silence, recovering from the shock of hearing the statement out loud. 

“I…I mean…”

“I know how you feel.”

Jeff made himself look up enough to meet Britta’s gaze, each of them ignoring how glassy eyed the other was.

“You do?” he asked, his breath shaky.

“I ran away from home when I was 17, Jeff. Home wasn’t a good thing until I came here,” Britta retorted.

“Right. Of course.”

“I guess…we’re just so used to everything going to shit that it made perfect sense that pool cleaning could lead to dismantling the whole school. Because we didn’t want to deal with anything else changing. Kinda like what Abed said. But…that doesn’t mean that we had to get all dramatic about it.”

“Maybe we _did_ pull a classic Abed…” Jeff mused.

“Yeah. Maybe we did.”

Jeff sat up, leaning forward to place one hand on Britta’s knee. “Listen, we’re gonna get through this. We can make our own place at Greendale that never has to change.”

Britta gave a weak smile, moving a hand to rest on top of Jeff’s. “I’m pretty sure that’s the opposite of what professionals would say is healthy, but sure.”

“What do you know about what professionals would say?” he teased.

She narrowed her eyes at Jeff, retracting her hand and swatting his away. He laughed - a deeper, heartier laugh than Britta had heard from him in a while.

“Sorry. C’mere,” he insisted, holding his arms out to her. She gave him a withering glare, but fell forward into him anyways.

Britta wondered why her and Jeff didn’t hug more when his arms wrapped around her so effortlessly. She snaked hers up over his shoulders and rested her head in the crook of his neck as he pulled her in close, his hands moving to rub her back.

They stayed in that position until Britta yawned, reluctantly drawing away to look at Jeff. Her hands trailed all the way down his arms, lingering on top of his even as she pulled away.

“Well, there’s nothing like a long overdue emotional release to wear me out,” she said with a light laugh, “I think I’m gonna head to bed. Do you need anything, or…?”

“No, no. I’m tired too. See you in the morning. Or, later this morning, I guess,” Jeff said, pulling up the covers to slip underneath.

Britta nodded, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and yawning again. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it back to my room,” she joked.

“I mean…you could just sleep here. My bed’s big enough for both of us.”

She blinked slowly as Jeff tugged down the covers further and scooted aside to make room for her.

“You don’t have to, but-”

“Yeah, sure. Why not? I…I’m sort of tired of sleeping alone, anyway,” Britta said. She inched her way up towards Jeff, letting him tuck her in as she lowered her head onto the pillow.

“Me too,” he murmured. He pulled his hand away once she was securely in place, shifting to lie on his back so that they weren’t touching at all. “Can you turn off the light?”

“Mhm,” Britta said, reaching over to click the lamp off.

They laid in the darkness, arms kept rigidly at their sides, completely silent for almost a minute. Eventually, Britta shifted in an attempt to get more comfortable, her elbow bumping Jeff in the process.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. In fact, uh…if you want, we could, like, spoon or something. If you want,” Jeff stuttered.

Britta bit back a joke about him acting like a nervous high schooler and nodded despite the fact that he couldn’t see her. “You wanna be big spoon or little spoon?”

“...big spoon.”

She rolled onto her side at the same time as Jeff, him draping an arm over her as they slotted themselves together. Britta relaxed into the embrace, leaning her head back against Jeff’s chest.

“Hey, Britts?”

“Yes, Jeff?”

“I’m really glad you moved in with me.”

Britta was grateful for the cover of darkness as she felt a wide grin spread across her face and her cheeks burn. “I’m really glad you let me move in.”

“You should be,” Jeff said with an audible yawn, squeezing her the slightest bit tighter.

“Whatever. Good night, Jeff.”

“G’night, Britts. Sleep tight.”

His embrace tightened once more as he nuzzled against the top of her head, Britta finding his presence and the warmth he provided to be predictably comforting.

 _"Why don't we do_ this _more often?"_ she thought before letting her eyes flutter shut and drifting off to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! soooo funny story, I was intending for this second chapter to cover all the events of the episode Ladders, but got 8000 words in and realized that a) I didn't want to have a chapter that was super duper long and b) I didn't want to wait any longer to update this when I had enough written for an update!! long way of saying don't worry, speakeasy shenanigans, ladders class, and more will be in the next one!
> 
> as always, please leave any thoughts/opinions/etc. down below!! hope you all are having a great morning/afternoon/night, thanks for reading!! <3


	3. Basic Conflict Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Running a secret speakeasy in Greendale's basement was only ever going to end so well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! this chapter took a long time due to me taking a lot of time off for finals, but those are over now and I'm free!! and this is over 9000 words. uh. strap in folks!! I hope you all enjoy <3

“Britts?”

Britta stirred, her eyes fluttering open to see Jeff looking down at her with mild annoyance as he poked her in the side.

_“What the- why is he…? Oh. Right.”_

“G’morning to you, too,” she grumbled.

“I need to get up, and you’re in my way,” he whined.

Britta moved to untangle herself from Jeff and purposefully took an extra moment to yawn and stretch before rolling out of his bed.

Jeff sighed and shook his head. “Jerk.”

“I think you’re the jerk for kicking me out of your bed this early,” she said, sitting back down once he was out of it.

“ _This_ early?! I let you sleep in an extra half hour!” Jeff protested. He stumbled over to his dresser and began to root around for a pair of pants. His mission was accomplished a few moments later as he whipped them out and pulled them on over the boxers he’d slept in.

“...oh. Thanks, then.”

“You’re welcome. Now, I had an idea while I was waiting for you to wake up…”

Jeff moved over to his closet in search of a shirt, eventually settling on a light blue button-up. He shrugged his t-shirt off and cast it onto the floor with absolutely no reservations, which made Britta struggle to tear her gaze away as he put his arms in the sleeves of the new shirt and started buttoning it up.

“Okay, so, hear me out. What if we turned the area behind the sandwich stand into a place where we could drink? If we really want to preserve an area of Greendale for ourselves.”

“Sounds like you want to preserve an area of Greendale for _your_ self,” Britta said with a laugh.

“Not necessarily. We could make it more comfortable, add some chairs and lights and things like that,” Jeff said.

Britta thought for a moment. “That’s not a terrible idea.”

“Glad you approve.”

He finished buttoning his shirt as she stood up again, stretching and yawning once more.

“You know, maybe we could invite students back there. But like, they’d have to have a super secret password. And pay for their drinks so that we could profit from it,” she suggested.

“You’re describing a speakeasy, Britta. You’re not seriously suggesting that we start illegally distributing alcohol on a college campus.”

“Well, you’re talking about setting up a place for us to illegally drink on a college campus, why not go all the way?” she countered. “Listen…I can’t let Shirley’s stand lose money while she’s gone. You know how hard she worked for it! If I can’t make money making sandwiches…maybe I can make money making drinks. It’s what I do most nights, anyway.”

Jeff felt silent for a moment, taking a moment to process her explanation before shaking his head. “Wow. Your moral compass is endlessly fascinating to me.”

Britta smiled smugly and sarcastically tossed her hair behind one shoulder. “Thanks, I try.”

“Do you think you could try getting ready to go to Greendale so we can leave as close to on time as possible?” he asked, practically batting his eyelashes at his roommate.

She rolled her eyes and gave an overdramatic huff. “I _guess_.”

\---

On their way to Greendale, Britta texted Annie to ask her to meet them by Shirley’s Sandwiches before their classes started.

It wasn’t long before they were in the dark, empty cafeteria, sneaking to the back of the sandwich stand to find Annie leaning against a table, boredly scrolling on her phone.

“Hey! Guys! Why did you want to meet this morning?” she asked, standing up straight and tucking her phone away when she noticed them walk into the room.

“Well, uh…Britta and I kind of had a revelation last night.”

Annie gave him an apprehensive look. “Alright…what kind of revelation?”

“I don’t think that we should be fighting Frankie. And we certainly shouldn’t be fighting Abed,” Britta said.

“Oh! Good!” Annie said before letting out a deep sigh of relief. “I started to feel like we were doing the wrong thing. Like…”

“Like Abed was right,” Jeff grumbled, shaking his head afterwards as if to rid himself of the feeling of admitting that someone other than himself had a point.

“Yeah. I tried to talk to him last night, but he still didn’t want to talk about Greendale. We just watched Samurai Cop like nothing was wrong.”

“We should definitely bring it up today. Apologize for making him feel left out just because he agreed with Frankie,” Britta suggested.

Annie nodded. “The three of us freaked out because things were changing. And there’s nothing else to do but accept the change, I guess,” she said, almost wistfully gazing out across the cafeteria.

“Well, you see, here’s the thing. We don’t have to fight Frankie, but we should carve out a space for ourselves that preserves the spirit of Greendale. A space where we can live like it’s the old, pre-Frankie days,” Jeff said. Britta nodded in agreement.

“Hm. That could be nice,” Annie said, then paused to think for a moment, “but what kind of space were you thinking of making?”

Britta grinned a little too broadly. “We might have an idea.”

\---

Britta might not have been a great sandwich maker. But, if she did say so herself, she was a great bartender.

Setting up a functional speakeasy sounded like a taller order than it was. At a normal school, there would be a Dean and an administrative board attentive enough to catch wind of their plans and put a stop to them. But, this was Greendale, and there was little oversight to speak of.

All the necessary furniture was found in the section of the basement that they were setting up shop in. They moved old cafeteria tables and staff room chairs against the wall across from a makeshift bar - which was an old project from a past woodworking class that had likely seen better days. Jeff found the alcohol that Frankie had confiscated from the faculty lounge in a nearby supply closet while Annie and Britta raided Greendale’s theatre department for set pieces that could be repurposed into decor. While on their mission, Annie had stumbled into a box of stereotypical 1920’s clothing and decided to take a cute flapper costume for herself, vests and bowler hats for Jeff and Britta, and an extra outfit “just in case” Abed decided to join them. She folded it neatly and tucked it underneath the bar, hoping that it wouldn’t have to stay under there for long.

It really should have been more difficult to convince students to come to an illegal on-campus speakeasy being run by two other students and a professor. But, Britta wasn’t complaining. At this rate, she would be able to easily cover all of Shirley Sandwiches’ expenses with enough left over to have a nice amount of take-home pay.

 _“Maybe enough to start paying Jeff rent,”_ she thought as she served her 10th martini of the hour.

After spending some time conversing with a few other professors, he came down to her side of the bar and took a seat right in front of her.

“This place is bustling! Who knew word would get out so fast? _And_ that people would be so eager to skip their classes?”

“That second part is not surprising. Not even a little bit,” Britta said, laughing as she shook up another martini.

Jeff rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Forgive me for thinking that some people around here still cared about their education.”

Britta frowned, then poured the drink and handed it off down the bar. “Clearly you haven’t been paying enough attention to the thoughts and feelings of the Greendale student body.”

“Why would I pay _any_ attention?”

“Fair point.”

She set down her martini shaker and propped her elbows up on the bar to rest her head on her hands.

“Is this place everything you hoped it would be?”

“Absolutely. My expectations were underground, Britta. All I really wanted was a place to drink on campus. All this other stuff is just a bonus,” Jeff said, gesturing to their surroundings.

Britta rolled her eyes. “Of course. I…” she trailed off, something in the distance capturing her attention. She froze in place, unable to speak, barely able to think.

“You what?”

“Jeff, turn around.”

He did as she directed and fell silent upon locking eyes on the sight that had startled her so.

Abed had strolled right into the speakeasy and was surveying the area; looking over the surprisingly well-dressed patrons, the decorations, the jazz band, and everything in between.

“We should go talk to him, right?” Britta asked. She pulled on Jeff’s shoulder to get him to turn back around.

“I mean…yeah. And I guess we should, um…you know…”

“Apologize?”

He gave a deep sigh and a nod. “Yeah. Apologize.”

The pair exchanged an almost fearful look before beginning to make their way towards Abed. Jeff stood up from his stool and Britta circled around the bar and they exchanged nervous glances before continuing on towards their friend. He spotted them before they could reach him and stood completely still, his gaze unwavering.

“Hey, Abed.”

“Jeff. Britta.”

“Listen, we’re sorry for resisting you and Frankie. We never should have made you feel like you couldn't hang out with us anymore. There doesn’t need to be a stupid secret committee,” Jeff said.

“Yeah. What he said,” Britta echoed.

“Wow. That’s surprisingly mature of you to admit that,” Abed remarked.

Britta beamed. “Thank you! We just did a little bit of reflecting, you know? We realized that we were being unreasonable.”

“Yeah. We realized that all we need is this secret speakeasy!”

“I’m not quite sure if that’s the correct answer…but I do love how conceptual this space is,” Abed said.

Annie came up beside them, smiling and holding out the suit jacket and hat that she’d set aside for her roommate. “Here! If you want to join us,” she said almost sheepishly. “If you don’t, that’s okay. We weren’t very good friends to you this past week.”

Abed thought for a moment and stared down at the clothes Annie was offering him.

“Hm…I don’t see why not.”

“Wait, really?!” Britta asked, springing forward to excitedly grip onto Jeff’s arm. He looked down at her as if he were going to make a snide comment, but ultimately smiled and turned back to Abed instead.

“Sure. Frankie and I have been doing a lot of work, so I need a break. And I’ve missed you guys.”

“Awww!” Annie and Britta squealed in unison.

“We missed you too. We never should have taken sides against each other,” Jeff said.

Abed’s mouth quirked up into a lopsided smile. “You know, there’s only one thing to do now.”

“What’s that?” Annie inquired.

“Have a montage of drinks!”

\---

Jeff wasn’t sure how, but the next few hours sure did feel like they blended together into a succinct montage. He and Abed did several shots of whiskey together while Annie and Britta took turns tipping martinis into each other’s mouths. Britta occasionally left them to go mix drinks for others and came back with a round of extra strong cocktails for the group each time. At one point, someone found a purple feather boa that was passed around from person to person as the group let the music flooding throughout the space guide them to an open part of the speakeasy to dance.

Eventually, Annie and Abed retired to one of the tables, exhausted from a long afternoon of drunken antics. Britta went to follow them, drifting close to Jeff in the process. Impulsively, he reached out and took her by the hand, causing her to look up in bewilderment at the unexpected touch.

“What are you trying there, old sport?” she asked in an awful, over-the-top accent.

“I'm trying to dance with you, see,” Jeff replied in a similarly terrible accent.

Britta rolled her eyes, but moved in closer to him despite her clear contempt for his awful not-quite-flirting. He adjusted the position of their hands so that their fingers were interlaced and cupped his free hand around her waist.

 _“This is just because of the alcohol,”_ Jeff thought as he studied her broad smile and the faint suggestion of dimples on the sides of her face. _“I’m dancing with Britta Perry because I’m drunk. Whoo, I’m drunk. I mean, whoo! I’m drunk, right? I-”_

“I have to say, this whole afternoon has been pretty fun. I’ve almost forgotten all about everything that’s been going on,” Britta said, still speaking in a manner that clearly conveyed her current level of intoxication, but without the obnoxious accent. She placed her free hand on Jeff’s shoulder to complete the typical slow dance position. They were now swaying side to side at a slightly rapid pace, their feet working hard to keep up with the band’s tempo.

“Forgotten about what?” Jeff asked, cracking a small smile.

“Exactly,” she hummed, taking the smallest step closer to him as they continued dancing.

“Y’know, I thought you said that you didn’t like drinking much anymore,” Jeff remarked.

“Yeah? Well, this is different.”

“How is this different?”

“It’s fun when I’m with you guys and not working alone in a dingy bar.”

His face fell into a sympathetic smile. “I suppose that would make a difference, wouldn’t it?”

“Mhm,” Britta nodded absently as she looked over one of Jeff’s shoulders, “Should we go join Annie and Abed over there? My feet are getting kind of tired.”

“Of course. Just one quick thing…”

“What?”

With no further warning, Jeff moved to spin Britta, her giving a slight squeal as she was twirled out and back into a snug embrace.

“Okay mister, you’ve got some moves,” she said, only half-heartedly sarcastic as they kept swaying in their new position.

“Oh, you don’t even know the half of it,” Jeff said. He moved his arms down to her waist and dipped her gently. Britta squealed again, this move being equally unexpected.

“Where did you learn all of this?!” Britta asked, laughing as he pulled her back up.

Jeff shrugged. “You know…places. Certainly not senior center dance classes that my mom made me volunteer to help with when I was in high school.”

Britta bit her lip, clearly to stop herself from continuing to laugh. “Good for you, then.”

“Well, uh…shall we, madame?” Jeff gestured to their friends sitting at a table across the room. They looked extremely comfortable with the feather boa wrapped around their shoulders as they lazily passed a martini glass back and forth.

“We shall, monsieur,” Britta replied, the accent seeping back into her voice.

Jeff cringed. “Only if we also make a pact to drop the accent bit.”

Britta rolled her eyes as they linked arms and stumbled towards their friends’ table. “You’re no fun…”

“Hi, guys!” Annie cooed, leaning over onto Abed’s shoulder and waving at them lazily.

“You’re pretty alright dancers,” Abed said. He took a sip from the martini glass before passing it back to Annie so that she could finish the drink off.

“Why, thank you, good sir,” Britta said, tipping her hat as her and Jeff took a seat across from them.

“I don’t know why you’re taking credit when it was all me,” Jeff groused.

“Well, I was dancing, too! It was both of us.”

“Really?”

“Gentlemen, please. Let’s stop the bickering. We’re here to forget our troubles and have a good time, see,” Abed said, taking on a better version of the accent Jeff and Britta had been attempting.

Britta gave him a smug and pointed look. “And you wanted to drop the accents…”

“What did I just say?”

“Right. Sorry.”

Abed smiled at the pair, his gaze shifting between them and Annie. “Let’s never stop being friends again. I really missed you guys.”

“You know, we shouldn’t have made you choose between us and Frankie,” Jeff said, echoing his statement from earlier.

“Right! And Abed’s been telling me about how great she is for business. Enrollment is up four and a half percent! Just because the Greendale website works again!” Annie said excitedly.

Britta nodded and leaned forward to be closer to her and Abed. “We’re sorry that we made you choose-”

“You’re just repeating what I said,” Jeff interjected, pivoting so that he was now facing Britta.

“No, you’re just repeating what I said!” she protested, turning to face him as well. Their faces were hardly more than a few inches apart, the hand on Jeff’s chin being the only thing separating them.

“Oh, so I’m a time traveler?” he asked, inching even closer.

Britta laughed, a wide grin spreading across her face. Her laugh must have been infectious, because soon, Jeff was smiling and laughing too. They drifted ever closer, his hand slipping off of his chin and onto the table. A few inches became one inch became mere centimeters until-

“I accept your apologies. After all, this is the show!” Abed exclaimed with unusual excitement.

Jeff blinked, slightly bewildered as he realized that he was close enough to Britta that he could see the different shades of blue in her eyes and the flecks of her mascara that had transferred from her lashes to under her eyes.

“Yeah, the show!” Britta cheered, pulling away from Jeff as if what had almost happened were no big deal.

Which it was. Not a big deal, that is.

\---

When they walked onto campus the next day, Jeff and Britta didn’t notice the new hydrangea bushes that had been planted by the entrance. They didn’t notice the newly cleaned and shining Luis Guzeman statue. They barely noticed the volunteer crew picking up litter outside on the quad, or the spot where Garrett was handing out free tea to anyone who wanted one.

They made a beeline for the back of Shirley’s Sandwiches, Britta grabbing her vest and Jeff grabbing his jacket from a coat rack next to the staircase.

“You’re not even going to check in on your morning class?” she asked as they entered the currently empty speakeasy, giving him a slightly judgemental look.

“I paid Neil to run a film from the 50’s about divorce law, they’ll be fine,” Jeff said dismissively.

Britta rolled her eyes as she circled around the counter and grabbed her bowler hat off the bar. “Whatever you say, Winger.”

“Hey, you’re abandoning our friend’s sandwich stand to be a bartender to potentially underage students,” he retorted.

Her face fell.

“Jeff, I’m being a bartender so that I don’t drive our friend’s sandwich stand out of business,” she said, sounding obviously hurt, “This might be pure escapism for you, but it’s not for me. You’re lucky that you’ve always gotten to do whatever you want without having to worry about keeping the lights on.”

He took a seat across from her at the bar, reaching out as she turned away.

“Wait, Britta, I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Uh huh. Whatever. I have to get ready to work,” she grumbled and ducked behind the tall liquor shelf.

“C’mon, Britts, you know it was a mistake. I wasn’t trying to-”

“Hey. What’s up?”

Jeff whipped around to see Abed standing right behind him, a curious expression resting on his face.

“Oh, Abed! Hey! You came back!”

“You thought I wouldn’t?”

“No, I just didn’t know if you had more stuff to do with Frankie,” Jeff quickly amended. Britta came back around the shelf and gave Abed a quick wave. Jeff did his best to ignore the new redness around her eyes.

Abed shrugged. “We made plans for everything, and the basic cleaning and fixing is done. She’s trying to make me her errand guy, but I want no part of that. I don’t want to be sending emails to Diane when I could be spending time with you guys.”

“Who’s Diane?”

“No clue.”

The sound of footsteps came from behind them and the pair turned to see Annie, back in her usual dress slacks and button up shirt instead of the 1920’s attire from the previous day.

“Hey,” she chirped.

“Hey,” the other three echoed.

“So, um…yesterday was fun, but I kind of have to go to class. I am still trying to get a degree, after all,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck almost sheepishly.

Britta nodded. “Yeah, you should do that. See you after your classes?”

“Of course! I-”

“Wait, you don’t have to go to class. This is Greendale! You’ll get a degree whether you try or not!” Jeff exclaimed.

“Jeff!” Britta huffed and reached across the bar to smack him on the arm.

Annie’s expression faltered. “Well, yeah. But I want to. My ambitions don’t start and end with just getting a degree.”

Jeff waved his hand dismissively. “I know, I know, but what’s one day of classes when we could all hang out like old times? C’mon, don’t be a spoil sport.”

She gave both Abed and Britta an apologetic look before directing her gaze back at Jeff. “I’m going to class. Have a nice day,” she said bitterly, turning on her heel and marching out of the speakeasy.

“I have no idea why she wouldn’t want to hang out with us.” Jeff shook his head as he turned back around in his seat, resting his arms on the bar. “I mean, who wouldn’t want to-”

“You know that it can never really be like old times again, right?” Abed interjected.

The room fell silent for several moments.

“What do you mean? Of course it can! I mean, look at this place! This is just like the wacky stuff we used to get up to in our early days! And yesterday, we were all hanging out like we used to. I missed that feeling,” Jeff protested.

Britta’s gaze drifted to the ground, her posture sloped downwards. “Jeff…we weren’t _all_ hanging out.”

“What do you mean?”

“We used to be the Greendale Seven. Now, there’s only four,” Abed said.

Another few moments of silence. This one hung heavier, Jeff feeling as though something were beginning to constrict his breathing.

“It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Jeff. Our formula can never be the same. By refusing to change, we risk going stale. If we don’t develop at the same rate as our show, that could create a dissonance that can’t be fixed.”

“Stop calling our lives a show,” Jeff said through gritted teeth.

“Listen, Jeff, you’re clearly going through something right now. We all are. But…” Britta gave Abed an unsure look before they both turned back to their friend, “You can’t take it out on us by trying to force us to pretend like everything’s the same as it was five years ago.”

“I’m not! I’m adapting to change _so_ well! Remember? All our friends left and I’m a teacher and I’m perfectly fine!”

Britta looked down at the counter. “Listen, maybe I’m overstepping here, but it might be good for you to talk to someone about everything. And…maybe someone that’s not me.”

“Oh look, it’s Britta the therapist, coming in to diagnose me!” he said mockingly, throwing his hands up in the air.

“What’s gotten into you?! I’m not trying to diagnose you, I’m literally saying that you should consider going to see someone that’s not me!”

“And that’s a hard thing for her to admit,” Abed added, Britta stuffing down her mild contempt and nodding in agreement.

“Okay, fine. I’m sorry. I guess I have been more…irritated lately. But it will go away. I don’t need to see anyone about it,” he conceded.

Britta sighed. “Fine. Just don’t be as much of a thoughtless asshole as you were this morning and you’ll hear no complaints from me,” she said, throwing a rag over her shoulder and turning away again, this time walking back around the bar and towards the door.

“Wait, Britts!” Jeff called and reached out to her.

Abed shook his head and pulled Jeff’s arm back down.

“Let her go, Jeff.”

“But-”

“Let her go. She’ll come back, I promise,” Abed said, “They all will. Eventually.”

\---

 _“What’s gotten into him?! He wasn’t acting this badly earlier this morning,”_ Britta thought as she stormed up the stairs. She pushed aside the curtain and marched around the sandwich counter, barely giving Todd the courtesy of a nod on her way outside.

_“I mean…I know I’m not doing great. But how can he be doing even worse and not realize it?”_

Britta kept walking until she was out of the cafeteria and in a small alleyway beside it, cloaked in the shadow of the larger building and standing beside the dumpster tucked away at the back of it. She leaned against the cold brick wall and took a shaky breath in an attempt to steady herself.

She wasn’t sure exactly what compelled her to do so, but she reached into her back pocket and pulled out her phone. She hit a few buttons before holding it up to her ear, chewing her lip nervously as she waited for the person she was calling to answer.

“Hello?” they answered.

“Hey, Shirley.”

“Oh, hello, Bri-ta!” she exclaimed, “Is anything wrong?”

“What? No! I just wanted to…call and check in. It’s been over a week since our last call,” Britta replied, propping one leg up against the wall and shifting her position slightly.

“I’m sorry I forgot to check on you! My dad is up and walking around again, and let me tell you, looking after him is like looking after a toddler now.”

Britta laughed as she wiped at her eyes and pretended they were only watering due to the amount of sawdust in the air from nearby construction. “Yeah, no worries. No worries at all. I’m glad to hear that he’s recovering so quickly.”

“Mhm. How’s my sandwich stand?”

“It’s…it’s good! We’re bringing in a good amount of profit. I’ll text you the numbers later.”

“Of course!” Shirley said cheerfully, “And how’s the rest of Greendale? You dealt with that bitch Frankie yet?”

“Well, we sort of dealt with her by realizing that we didn’t need to deal with her. We, uh, decided just to stay out of her way. Mind our own business. She’s making a fair amount of improvements to the school, I guess. I don’t know, we haven’t been paying too much attention,” Britta explained.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. We just sort of realized that there wasn’t a reason to be so upset, and that we could just keep doing our own thing. We tried to fight because…we weren’t doing a good job of dealing with change.”

The line went silent for a moment. So long that Britta checked to make sure that Shirley hadn’t hung up on her or that they’d been disconnected.

“Change is always hard. But I’m just glad that’s all it was and that Greendale is in safe hands.”

Britta smiled. “Mhm. Yeah. Totally.”

“Well, listen, I’ve got to go make sure that my dad isn’t getting into too much trouble. Talk more later? I still need to catch up with Abed and Jeffery at some point.”

“Yeah! Of course. Good luck with that.”

“Thanks, Bri-ta. Love you! Bye!”

“Love you, too.”

If calling Shirley was supposed to make Britta feel better or convince her that she was doing the right thing, then she wasn’t quite sure why she slowly lowered the phone, slumped further against the wall, and let an honest to goodness sob escape from her throat.

\---

The rest of the day passed rather uneventfully, the speakeasy packing itself once more and Britta wordlessly serving up drinks for students and professors alike. She felt as though she were on autopilot, making martinis and Old Fashioneds, pouring out scotch and vodka like it was going out of style. The jazz music that had felt so lively and welcome earlier now felt like some kind of taunt, dangling the promise of a good time in front of her only to repeat the same melody for a seventh time.

Abed disappeared for a while, off to help Frankie with a minor electrical problem in the auditorium. Annie came back down after she was done with her classes to help Britta sell snacks, walking around the speakeasy with a holder full of peanuts, chips, and cookies.

Meanwhile, Jeff remained in a dark corner far away from the bar, all by himself with nothing but an empty glass.

 _“Do I go say something to him? No. He has to apologize first. I don’t care how upset he is, if he really doesn’t want anyone’s help, I won’t try to help. Simple as that,”_ Britta thought during a moment when business was slow moving, the speakeasy slowly emptying out as the school day was coming to a close.

Annie walked over to the bar and took off the snack holder, sliding into a seat across from Britta.

“Hey. Have you talked to Jeff at all since this morning?”

“No. I’ve been up here all day,” Britta said with a sigh, “Have you?”

“Briefly. He just said that he was sorry for being weird this morning,” Annie replied.

“Well, that’s something.”

“Yeah, it is! But, uh…I was wondering if you could check in with him tonight? I’m…worried about him.”

Britta looked up and gave her a sympathetic smile. “Of course. I’m not sure how far I’ll get, but-”

“Oh, come on. If there’s any one of us that he’d talk to, it’s you,” Annie said matter-of-factly.

“I mean…”

“Britta. He had you move in with him, you’re clearly the closest friend he has.”

Despite her current anger at Jeff, the comment didn’t fail to make her feel something flutter in her stomach. “Yeah, well, he didn’t want to open up to me and Abed this morning. And he didn’t like me suggesting that he open up to a licensed professional, either.”

Annie looked down at the bar. “Okay. Just see what you can do? Please? I know he might say that he doesn’t need any help, but-”

“He really does, I know. I’ve known him for over half a decade, and some things never change.”

“Yeah. Thanks,” Annie said, smiling at Britta and reaching over to squeeze her arm. She turned and went to head for the door, but was stopped by a loud crack, followed by the door being kicked open and a sudden wave of people entering the basement.

“Freeze!”

Britta and Annie did as they were told out of pure shock, the few lingering patrons and the jazz band eyeing the group by the door with alarm. All told, about six not-very-threatening people in cheap old-timey police costumes stood in front of them, waving their obviously fake guns around to point them at various corners of the speakeasy.

All became clear a moment later when Frankie stepped forward in her well-pressed blouse and pencil skirt, clasping her hands together in front of her body.

“I thought the theatrics might get your attention better than anything. Now, I’ve been letting you stay holed up down here because it kept you contained and satisfied, since you are all compulsively defiant,” she opened.

Jeff emerged from his corner to stand next to Annie in front of the bar, staring Frankie down with all the scorn and derision that he could muster.

“You stole Abed. So we’re gonna steal your school,” he said, clearly drunk and slurring his speech slightly. Annie reached over to pat him on the arm in an attempt to calm him down and keep him from saying anything else that would make the situation worse.

“Stole Abed? I did no such thing! He was the only reasonable one out of all of you!” Frankie exclaimed.

“Oh, yeah? Where is he now?” Britta asked, crossing her arms.

“I’m right here.”

The group turned to see him emerge from the doorway, passing through the students in police costumes.

“Abed? You tattled?!” Britta asked with an outraged gasp.

“Britta, in what world do you think that this -” Frankie gestured to the space around them - “requires tattling? You built a bar! In a school! There was lumber involved, and half of the professors have been MIA for the past two days, including your friend, here,” she said, gesturing to Jeff.

“If it’s any consolation, I didn’t lead her here. I didn’t want her to shut this down, she just found out about it on her own,” Abed added. Britta and Annie gave him weak smiles, seeing that he was being as sincere as possible.

Frankie’s face fell as she glanced to the side and a look of what could be perceived as pity crossed her face. “Operating a secret speakeasy wasn’t enough, was it? You had to drag Abed into it, and Abed deserves better.”

“Oh ho ho, _really_?! You want to go there?” Britta asked. Jeff raised his fists as if he were going to fight Frankie, but Annie reached over again to slowly lower them back down.

“They didn’t drag me into this, Frankie. These are my friends, and I chose them,” Abed said, stepping out from the group of costumed policemen. “I was happy to help you clean up Greendale. But I hate doing your busy work. I hate emailing Diane. She can’t commit to a font, it’s pathological. What I don’t hate is my friends. I can’t keep on fighting them. I belong with them.”

“I know you think that, Abed, but you don’t know any better,” Frankie said, the words slipping out of her mouth without a second thought. Jeff, Britta, and Annie all stared at her, mouths agape. Jeff raised his fists again, no one stopping him this time.

Abed tilted his head to the side. “I’m sorry?”

“I mean…uh…I didn’t mean to say that. Of course you belong with your friends, but wouldn’t you rather clean up the school instead of fooling around down here with them?”

“Not anymore. Not if that’s what you really think of me,” he said softly, unable to look Frankie in the eye.

“You really think you can keep people on your side if you talk to them like that?!” Annie yelled, balling her hands into fists at her side and stepping in front of Abed.

“Do you really think that you can stay enrolled as students for long if this is how you act on school grounds?! If you break every single rule in the book just because you’re upset that you don’t get to run this place any more?” Frankie yelled back, narrowing her eyes at Annie.

“Okay, let’s all just take a step down for a minute,” Britta suggested, slowly coming around the bar with her hands up. She put herself between Annie and Frankie in an attempt to cut some of the tension. “We’re all adults here. Why don’t we apologize for illegally selling alcohol on a college campus if Frankie apologizes for-”

“I don’t owe you any apologies! You- you’re all a bunch of living farts! You’re farts from the butt of a lesser god! I’m…”

Taken aback by the sudden outburst, Britta backed up and let an enraged Annie take the stage.

“Is that so?”

“...I’m going to leave now. I…yeah.”

With that, Frankie turned and ran out the door, leaving the Greendale Four, the jazz band, and a handful of confused students in police outfits to wonder what came next.

\---

Following their confrontation, the four had decided to pack up the speakeasy. The remaining alcohol went back to the supply closet or to Jeff’s not-so-secret stash, the furniture was neatly tucked against the walls, and all of the 1920’s set dressings were returned to the theatre department.

It took a handful of hours, but they got the room back to the condition they’d found it in. All that was left to do was sweep up the place, which Britta volunteered to do so that Annie and Abed could head home.

She was in the middle of this task when Jeff returned from putting away all of the liquor, continuing to sweep and avoiding looking up at him as he stood in the doorway.

“Hey.”

Britta didn’t say anything in response and kept her gaze locked on the section of the floor that she was sweeping.

“I’m fucking terrified of change.”

She stopped sweeping and turned around to look at Jeff, her face portraying her complete and utter shock.

“Excuse me, what?”

“You’re right. Abed’s right. I can’t handle the idea of anything changing because, truth be told, the years we’ve all spent together are hands down, the best years of my life. I didn’t want anything to bring an end to that,” he elaborated.

Britta tried and failed to keep her jaw from dropping. “You…you confronted your own feelings and emotions? Who are you and what did you do with Jeff Winger?”

He chuckled softly. “Yeah, I know. Shocking. I guess it took driving you guys away, just for a little while, to realize that I need you. And to keep you, I couldn’t keep lying to myself.”

“Wow. Yeah. I…”

“I’m sorry. I promise, from now on, I won’t keep trying to make us live in the past. As long as we all stick together, nothing can be that bad, can it?”

Jeff reached out towards Britta, her meeting him halfway so that he could take her hands in his.

“No, it can’t. Not as long as we’re all still here,” she said, smiling warmly at him.

He smiled back. “You know, I was thinking about something.”

“Yes?”

“Imagine if we’d put this much effort into running Shirley’s Sandwiches well. We could have made just as much money!”

Britta couldn’t help but laugh, squeezing Jeff’s hands a little tighter. “Yeah. Nothing says that we can’t get a start on that now, though. Better late than never.”

He nodded. “Better late than never.”

\---

Jeff walked into his classroom the next morning, prepared for an extremely normal day. He had sat down the previous night to prepare an actual lesson plan, something he had previously seen as frivolous and stupid. But, here he was, lesson plan in hand, ready to actually teach his students something.

Britta was equally prepared for a day at the sandwich stand, much to her own surprise. As it turned out, Todd was more than just a decent bouncer; he was a great sandwich maker. So, with Shirley’s blessing, Britta hired him to do the actual making of sandwiches while she worked the register and prepared sides and drinks.

No one had seen Frankie since her outburst in the speakeasy. No one was really keen on seeking her out, figuring that she would either come back or she wouldn’t.

As Britta was opening Shirley’s Sandwiches for the day, Annie bounded up to the counter, an almost nervous smile gracing her face.

“Hey! Abed and I wanted to come check on you and Jeff. He’s in a filmmaking class right now, but he wanted me to come here early anyway.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s sweet. Um, we’re both fine. He, uh…I think he’ll want to talk to you and Abed directly. But he realized that he _was_ overreacting to change, and that maybe we shouldn’t have assumed setting up a secret speakeasy was the best possible course of action,” Britta said.

Annie smirked. “Yeah. We probably should have workshopped that one a little more.”

“Mhm. Well, he’s back to teaching today, and I’m back here.”

“You know, if you need some extra help…”

“I actually hired Todd to help out during the lunch rush! He can actually make sandwiches that aren’t charred husks, so that’s pretty cool,” Britta said nonchalantly.

“Oh, good! Glad to hear it,” Annie said, her tone sounding a touch too relieved for Britta’s liking.

“Uh huh. I was thinking that maybe we should have a traditional committee meeting this afternoon, are you busy today?”

“Nope. All I have scheduled for today is sitting in on the Ladders class. Abed showed me an official list of superfluous classes that him and Frankie put together, and we decided to go to a couple sessions of each one to see if they’re worth keeping,” Annie explained.

“Oh, cool!”

“By the way, have you seen her at all today? I want to make sure that she gives Abed a proper apology.” Annie cracked her knuckles as she was speaking, perhaps coincidentally, perhaps not.

“No, I haven’t. I’m not sure if she’ll ever come back after…whatever that was.”

“Yeah. Who knows.” Annie stared off into space for a moment before looking back at Britta. “Well, you should send out a text about the meeting so we can pick a time.”

“Of course! Uh, have fun in…Ladders class?” Britta said, squeaking on the last two words.

Annie smiled and nodded as she turned to leave. “I’ll sure try to.”

\---

Not but an hour later, Britta’s phone chirped, notifying her of a text message from Annie. She went to check it, assuming it was about planning their potential afternoon meeting, but it turned out to be much more urgent than that.

_“Emergency meeting. Study room. Now.”_

_“Huh. I wonder…”_ Britta thought, her pondering interrupted by the sound of someone in the cafeteria shrieking.

“Someone’s getting wheeled into an ambulance outside!”

From there, she went on autopilot, running to the library as fast as her legs could carry her before the inevitable rush of panicked students flooded the hallways. It still took several minutes and there was more than one time where she thought that she was going to trip over someone, but she made it to Study Room F in one piece, which was all she could really ask for in this situation.

Britta saw that Annie, Abed, and Chang were already sitting around the table - which had a stack of assorted manilla folders piled up in the center - and ran from the doorway to her usual seat.

“Annie? What’s happening?”

“Um…I think I’ll wait until everyone gets here to explain,” she said, clearly more than a little shaken.

Jeff strode into the room only a moment later, unusually calm as he took his seat at the head of the table. Before he could even open his mouth to say anything, he was interrupted by an unusually high pitched shriek.

“What happened, Annie?! I saw the ambulance and then your text…what could have possibly gone so wrong?” the Dean exclaimed, flinging the door to the study room closed as he entered and rushed over to the open seat beside Jeff.

“So, um…” Annie started unsurely, glancing around the table to ensure that all of the committee members were present, “...the Ladders professor was a little hungover from yesterday. And he decided to climb to the top of a super tall ladder during class today. He wasn’t paying attention while he was at the top and kind of fell over? His arm might be broken, but that was the only injury,” she explained. She looked around to make sure that everyone was keeping up before continuing. “He insisted on calling the ambulance, but it shouldn’t be _that_ bad. No students were harmed, and property damage was minimal.”

“Oh. So what’s the problem here?” the Dean asked, genuinely confused.

“Frankie was in charge of figuring out employee insurance plans. And insuring the school as a whole. But we haven’t seen her all day, and her usual parking space is empty,” Abed said, “I found these files on her desk, but that’s all the information we have.”

“Well, why can’t we figure this out ourselves?” the Dean asked, reaching into the middle of the table and grabbing one of the many files from the stack. He began to leaf through it, clearly not taking the time to read or attempt to understand what was printed on the pages. He gave a deep sigh of resignation before closing the file and tossing it back towards the middle of the table. “Alright, I see. How do we get her back, then?”

“Whoa, whoa. Is that our best option here? She wasn’t very nice to Abed yesterday,” Britta protested.

“No, she wasn’t,” Abed said, humming in consideration, “But she got Greendale more operational than it’s been in years. We could at least use her help with this before the professor tries to sue the school.”

The Dean scoffed. “Well, I don’t know about-”

“Well, even if we for sure want her back, how would we find her?” Jeff asked.

A thin smile spread across Abed’s face. “I can email Diane.”

\---

Surprisingly, finding her was the easy part. Diane told Abed that Frankie had a job interview with a nearby consulting firm in an hour, leading him and Jeff to hop in his car and speed over to the office.

They remained silent for the first half of the car ride, Jeff nervously gripping the wheel. While he was worried about getting Frankie back to help them, he was also worried about patching things up with Abed. Every time he tried to open his mouth, the words seemed to die on his tongue.

Ultimately, it was Abed who broke the silence after Jeff’s fifth attempt at striking up a conversation.

“So, what’s the plan?” he asked.

“I’ll throw open the door, tell the interviewer to not hire Frankie, make her apologize to you, then beg her to come back and help us not get sued,” Jeff explained.

“A dramatic third act revelation. Nice.”

Jeff nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. “Yeah. And, um…I just wanted to say that…”

“Yes?”

“You were right. Again.”

“About?”

“Things never being the same again. I’m sorry for trying to force you guys to act like we were still in our freshman year.”

“Oh. Yeah,” Abed said, “It’s alright. I know that you’ve always needed to push us away before you can let us in.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s it,” Jeff replied, more than a little stunned, “I feel like you’ve always known me better than I know myself,” he joked.

“I don’t. I can just acknowledge some truths about people before they can.”

“Huh. I guess that makes sense.”

“Mhm,” Abed hummed, “I promise, even after five years, you keep finding new ways to surprise me.”

Jeff smirked. “Good. That’s my goal.”

\---

After the fourth failed attempt, Jeff realized that throwing open the doors of random rooms in the rather large office building and yelling, “Stop! Don’t hire this woman!” maybe wasn’t the best course of action.

“Maybe we just want to knock on this next one,” Abed suggested as they continued down the hallway.

“It’s got to be this one…how many more rooms can there be? It’s this one,” Jeff muttered. Abed shook his head, resigning himself to the embarrassment that he knew would come when his friend was proven wrong yet again.

Jeff approached the door, exchanging a small nod with Abed before turning the handle and pushing it open, rushing into the room.

“Stop! Don’t hire this woman!”

He did his best to hide his legitimate surprise at the sight of Frankie standing in front of him, a very confused gentleman sitting at the desk to her left.

Abed rushed in beside him, appearing much more surprised at the presence of the administrative consultant.

“Wow. Fifth time’s the charm. He’s run into four other offices yelling that,” he remarked.

Frankie looked at them, her face contorted into a shocked expression. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

“I emailed Diane,” Abed explained, “She knows _way_ too much about your personal schedule.”

“Listen, Frankie…I know that we’ve had a super rocky start. And I know that you probably don’t want to come back to Greendale, and that we can’t pay you half as much as this place is probably offering you. But-” Jeff started. The man behind the desk opened his mouth to say something, but Frankie waved her hand as if to shush him.

“We need you. The Ladders professor got injured because he was hungover from yesterday, and none of us have any idea how to deal with the situation. He’s probably going to sue us, and we need someone competent to stop him from doing that.”

“I…I don’t know. I think that we might all bring out the worst in each other,” Frankie said bluntly.

“Congratulations, you just discovered the essence of Greendale,” Jeff replied dryly, “but we would appreciate it if you would help us sort this out. You can quit after that. I think I speak for all of us when I say that I’m sorry that we were such pains in the ass.”

“Well…” Frankie cleared her throat, “I’m sorry for reacting in the way that I did yesterday. And Abed…I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it, I know that you’re capable of making your own decisions. I was just upset and it slipped out. Though, I also know that’s not an excuse.”

Abed gave her a gentle smile. “Thanks, Frankie.”

“Hi, I don’t mean to break up whatever’s happening here, but could you maybe do this somewhere else? I have other applicants to interview,” the other man piped up.

The other three turned towards him, each feeling varying levels of embarrassment.

“Of course. We’ll get out of your office. Also…I’m withdrawing my name from consideration for the position,” Frankie said.

The man snorted. “Don’t worry, I already took care of that.”

\---

Before they knew it, they were back at Greendale, all sitting around the table. Annie and Britta were both giving Frankie their best and most intense death glares as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, looking over one of the many files from the middle of the table.

“Alright, I think I have a solution for our little problem. There’s a way we can provide every staff member with health insurance and cover Professor Albrecht’s costs out of pocket without taking too much of a loss,” Frankie said, closing the file and pushing it back across the table.

“That’s great,” Jeff said encouragingly, looking around the table in an attempt to get the others more excited. All of them ignored him, save for Abed, who gave Frankie a covert thumbs up.

“Um, I feel like I should address the elephant in the room. I…had some time to reflect on my actions, and I believe that we got off on the wrong foot,” she started.

Britta, Annie, and Chang all continued to stare her down suspiciously, but Jeff nodded encouragingly to give her the confidence to continue.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t do more to assure you that I wasn’t going to take over this school. The good that may have come from my actions doesn’t excuse the fact that I charged ahead without considering your opinions, because even if I am technically above you, we are all on this committee together,” she elaborated.

The group remained silent, several committee members clearly considering her statement.

“I promise that in the future, we’ll work together on all potential solutions and have a more democratic way of running things.”

Britta sighed and uncrossed her arms, leaning forward onto the table towards Frankie. “ _We’re_ sorry that we tried to fight against you at first. And then decided to make a secret speakeasy when we stopped fighting.”

Annie nodded in agreement. “Yeah. You did do a lot of good for this school. But…” she started, turning to stare Frankie down, “you need to apologize for what you said to Abed yesterday.”

“Don’t worry, she already has,” Abed interjected, looking over to exchange a small smile with Frankie, “We’re cool.”

“Cool. Cool, cool. If you’re cool, I’m cool,” Annie said, still eyeing Frankie with a healthy amount of suspicion.

“I’m not sure if I’m in a position where I’m allowed to ask this after my outburst yesterday, but could we maybe start over? Get a clean slate of sorts?” Frankie asked, looking hopefully at each of the committee members.

Jeff glanced at each of his friends for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. I think that would be good for all of us.”

“A clean slate sounds great,” Annie seconded, giving Frankie a timid smile.

Before Britta or Abed could respond, Chang stood up and dramatically pushed his chair away from the table.

“Oh, so we forgive _her_ right away, but _I_ had to spend a whole year and a secret identity on earning back your trust?!” he asked indignantly.

“She didn’t kidnap the Dean and try to murder us, Chang,” Annie said with an eye roll, clearly more perturbed than anything.

Frankie looked between the two of them, her jaw hanging open slightly. “I have to ask, how much more shocking information is there for me to learn about this school?”

“An endless amount,” Jeff said, shaking his head, “I promise, you’ll never catch up.”

\---

As Britta and Jeff walked onto campus the next morning, they stopped to admire the new hydrangeas and the glimmering statue. Britta gratefully accepted a tea from Garrett, and even though she promptly dumped it out next to a bush due to the fact that it tasted like he’d torn open a tea bag and dumped the contents into water that he scooped up from a puddle, she still appreciated the sentiment.

“So…our first real committee meeting with Frankie today, huh?” Jeff remarked as Britta was disposing of her demonic tea.

“Yeah! It’ll either be great or a shit show,” she quipped.

“Yeah. I’ve got a good feeling about this, though.”

She rejoined him on the main path and gave him a curious smile. “That’s new for you.”

“I guess. I don’t know, it feels kind of nice to be optimistic for a change,” he said with a casual shrug.

They walked in a contented silence for a few moments, taking in all of the fresh scenery and the cleaner version of Greendale that they never dreamed could exist.

“Hey…there’s something else I wanted to tell you.”

Britta looked over to Jeff and tilted her head to the side. “What is it?”

“I, uh, started looking into a few different therapists in the area. I thought about what you said, and it might not be such a bad idea for me to talk to someone else. About everything that’s happened.”

“Wait, for real?!” she squeaked, sounding a little too excited, “I mean, that’s great. I’m glad. I hope you know there’s no shame in getting help for whatever. Everyone can use a little therapizing now and then.”

He smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I’m working on accepting that. Thanks for…pushing me in that direction.”

Britta smiled back and reached out to take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before immediately dropping it. “Any time, Winger.”

Without thinking, he reached out to take her hand back, threading his fingers loosely with hers.

Gripping his hand tightly in response felt like more of a habit to Britta than it actually was, or than it should have been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: I made myself go feral with those last two lines.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this update!! they will likely be shorter going forward, but honestly, I'm not 100% sure where this project is going to take me. please share any thoughts/opinions/general yelling with me in the comments!! I hope you all are doing well and staying safe and surviving finals season, if that applies to you!! <3


	4. Remedial Pinball and Other Nerdy Activities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group visits a pinball museum and Jeff receives an unexpected Facebook message.

“And that’s a wrap on our last meeting of the week! Have a good weekend, everyone,” Frankie said. She closed her newly decorated binder and promptly stood up from the table. The rest of the committee followed suit, each quickly packing up their bags and pushing their chairs in, eager to get out and enjoy their night.

“Wait!” Annie exclaimed, waving her arms to get everyone’s attention. They all turned to look at her with expressions ranging from interested to annoyed.

“Yes?” Jeff asked, somewhat impatiently.

“Um, I was thinking that maybe we should all hang out this weekend? So that Frankie can get to know us outside of work.”

“Hm,” Frankie stopped to think for a moment, “That could be nice, and might help us establish a better workplace dynamic. Did you have a specific activity in mind?”

Annie exchanged a quick look with Abed before answering. “Well, Abed and I were talking about going to a pinball museum on Saturday, and I was wondering if you all might want to join us.”

“A pinball _museum_? What do you do, look at a bunch of pinball machines behind glass cases?” Jeff asked, tilting his head in confusion.

“No, they have a bunch of pinball machines in a big room and you can buy a wristband that lets you play as much as you want,” Britta casually explained.

The others turned to look at her now, each appearing visibly shocked at her knowledge of the establishment.

“You’ve been to the pinball museum in Denver?” Abed asked.

Britta’s face started burning bright red. “I…I mean, no. No, what do I look like, a nerd? Psh. No.”

“Britta. You don’t have to lie to save your reputation. It’s been a long time since we thought you were cool,” Jeff deadpanned. She gave a deep frown as she reached over to swat him on the arm.

“I wouldn’t have assumed you to be the pinball type. But that’s cool,” Abed said, “We should carpool over there, if you guys are in.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Frankie hummed, “I think that I’d prefer to drive myself there.”

“Man, I love a good road trip! Carpooling _and_ pinball sound like fun,” Chang said. When he spoke up, it seemed as though everyone in the room suddenly remembered that he was there, and had forgotten about his presence while making plans.

“I think we’d also like to drive ourselves, right, Britts?” Jeff said quickly, glancing sideways at her for confirmation.

“Yup! Sounds great.” She held her hand up for a high five, to which Jeff swiftly reciprocated.

Annie gave an almost imperceptible sigh. “Wonderful. We were thinking of getting there around 3. The museum closes at 6, so that would give us three hours to play.”

“Three _hours_?” Jeff asked incredulously.

“Listen, time flies when you’re playing pinball,” Britta replied.

Her roommate stared at her for a moment, his jaw practically dropping to the floor. “You never seem to run out of ways to amaze me.”

She beamed. “It’s been said that I’m full of surprises.”

“And we’re back to the classic will-they, won’t they dynamic…” Abed muttered, quietly enough that only Britta could hear. She decided to ignore the remark and carry on with the conversation.

“Well, anyway, I’ll send the address for the museum in our group chat,” Annie said.

“Be there at 3 or be square,” Abed added, throwing up finger guns at each of the committee members.

“...can I still carpool with you guys?” Chang asked, eyes widening at Abed and Annie.

The pair exchanged mildly nervous glances, having an entire silent conversation before turning back to Chang.

Annie’s face contorted into a pained smile before she answered. “I don’t see why not!”

\---

“You know, you should have told me that this place was an hour away sometime _before_ this morning,” Jeff grumbled, drumming his fingers against the side of the steering wheel.

“It’s not too bad. This route is kind of pretty.” Britta was gazing out the window and had her elbow propped up on the windowsill so that she could rest her head on her hand. If Jeff weren’t driving, he probably would have taken more time to note how nicely the sun was highlighting her profile in that position.

They were en route to the pinball museum and purposefully running a tad late. Jeff figured that no one else would be there on time and didn’t want to have to wait for the rest of the group outside of the museum, to which Britta readily agreed.

He nodded, glancing out the window to his left. “Yeah. The mountains look nice from here.”

“Mhm.”

Britta hadn’t been exceptionally talkative since they’d gotten in the car, so Jeff was left to scrounge for topics of conversation that might get more than a few words out of her.

“So…how did you get into this pinball thing?”

“Someone I used to know really liked it. I went to the museum with them once every couple of weeks when I was a kid. I’ve been back a few times as an adult, and it’s still pretty fun,” Britta explained. Jeff noticed out of the corner of his eye that she was fidgeting with one of her rings, which he’d learned was a sign that she was uncomfortable with the topic that he’d chosen.

“Cool. Cool, cool.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, um, what machine do you think I should play first?”

“That depends. Are you a Star Trek or a Star Wars guy?”

“Neither. I actually lost my virginity in high school,” Jeff said with a smirk.

Britta rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. Play the fucking Game of Thrones machine first, then. It was brand new the last time I was there, and it’s actually pretty fun, even though I don’t like how that source material treats its female characters.”

“Of course you don’t,” Jeff said with an eye roll, “I wouldn’t know what it’s like, I’ve never seen an episode.”

“Always living outside the mainstream, huh?”

Jeff glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and was unable to help the smile tugging up the corners of his mouth.

“I’m glad that someone finally noticed.”

\---

Within half an hour, they were pulling into the parking lot behind the pinball museum, rolling out of the car, and scanning the area for their friends. Jeff’s hypothesis seemed to have been proven true until a certain tall brunette sitting on a bench next to the front door turned to face them.

“Oh, hi! I was starting to get a little worried that no one else was coming,” Frankie said, getting up to walk over and stand beside Jeff and Britta.

“Aw, we just got stuck in a little traffic, that’s all,” Britta fibbed.

Frankie nodded. “Understandable. It just wouldn’t have been the first time that a group of people invited me to something only to all agree behind my back not to show up,” she said with a short, humorless laugh, looking down at the ground as her laughter trailed off.

Britta’s gaze darted over to Jeff, her expression one of more than a little concern. He shot back an equally concerned look, but quickly wiped it away and replaced it with a slightly shaky smile.

“That’s…unfortunate. We’re not that asshole-ish, I promise,” he said.

“It’s alright. I’m just glad that you two are here. Where do you think…”

She was interrupted by the blaring sound of a car horn coming from behind them. The trio turned to see Annie’s Volvo approaching the curb next to them. Inside, an annoyed Annie was attempting to parallel park as Chang was reaching over from the passenger seat to continue to honk the horn. Abed was sitting in the backseat, clearly attempting to ignore everything currently happening within the car. Chang looked up to wave at the group gathered on the sidewalk, giving the horn two more solid honks before Annie was safely within the parking space and able to swat his hand away.

“Someone’s gonna need to keep Annie away from Chang for the rest of the day. I’m not sure how much longer she’ll be able to resist punching him in the face,” Britta murmured to both Jeff and Frankie.

“I can handle it. I would hate to see one committee member harm another before we’ve really accomplished anything as a team,” Frankie replied.

“Hey, guys! How’s it hanging?” Chang asked, having emerged from the car. He strolled over to joining the rest of the group with Abed and Annie trailing close behind.

“It’s hanging,” Britta answered casually.

“I’m ready to play some pinball,” Annie said, her face settled into an incredibly determined expression.

“Well, shall we, then?” Jeff asked, gesturing to the entrance to the pinball museum.

Abed nodded eagerly, basically pushing his way past the others to get to the front of the pack. “We shall.”

\---

“So, where are you going first?” Abed asked Jeff once they were inside the museum and had paid for their wristbands. Annie had excitedly pulled Frankie over to a wall of vintage pinball machines and Chang went in search of the Star Trek one, so him, Jeff, and Britta had decided to take a moment to wander around the maze of machines in the main lobby before deciding which one deserved their attention.

“Britta said that I should try the Game of Thrones machine,” he replied.

“Yup! It’s just right around the corner,” Britta interjected.

Abed hummed. “Sure, sure. You should come find me in the arcade room in the back when you’re done. I want to play two-player Galaga with you.”

“Alright, will do.”

He gave a small nod before turning to head for the back room. Once he had disappeared, Britta grabbed Jeff by the hand and took him over to the machine in question.

“Okay, so, have you ever played pinball before?” she asked.

Jeff stepped up to study the controls and the playfield for a moment before answering. “A couple times. A couple decades ago. When I was a kid, the bowling alley near my house had a few that they kept in front of the lanes.”

“Alright, so you have an idea of the basic concept then, right? You launch the ball then use the buttons to trigger the flippers to hit it.”

“Yeah, I got that. Should I just go for it?”

“Sure. No time like the present,” Britta said encouragingly, “I’ll stay here to coach you through your first round or so, but I want you to know that the Lord of the Rings machine is calling me.”

Jeff shook his head as he launched the ball and it shot up into the playfield. “I can’t believe I never knew that you were _such_ a nerd.”

The ball rolled through a maze of bumpers and the red LED screen flashed with pixelated graphics of characters with little swords as it hit each of the bumpers several times.

“Is that good?” Jeff asked, genuinely confused.

“Yeah, you can rack up pretty good bonuses with that cluster of bumpers. Now, you just have to hit it and shoot it into one of the ramps to _really_ get somewhere.”

Jeff bit back another joke about Britta being a dork as the ball rolled out of the bumper minefield and towards the flippers. It looked like it was going to land near the left one, so he hit the button. However, it was about a second too late, and the ball flew right into the gap between them.

“Damn, that was quick,” Jeff grumbled.

“That’s okay, that’s why you get three balls per game. And that’s what’s so great about this place! You can play as many games as you want,” Britta assured him. Jeff wanted to ask why she was being so unusually kind and encouraging to him, but the question died on his tongue when he looked up at her almost radiant smile.

“Alright. I’ll give it another shot.”

Jeff launched another ball. This time, he hit it when it rolled towards him and sent it flying into a ramp guarded by a red dragon figurine.

“That’s good, right?!”

“Yes, that’s good! Now, watch out, it’s gonna shoot out the right side close to that flipper. It’s an easy shot, you just have to be ready for it,” Britta explained.

The ball finished rolling down the entire length of the ramp and Jeff hit the flipper at the exact right time for it to be sent careening up towards another cluster of decorated bumpers.

“Yeah, that’s it! Now, just do that for the rest of the game,” Britta said, only half-joking, “Just try hitting different things. Everything will give you some kind of bonus. And try to pay at least a little attention to the screen, it’ll tell you what things to hit for extra points or special modes and shit.”

“Cool.” Jeff was now fully engrossed in the pinball game, hitting different markers and making different figurines light up and move around. Instantly, he understood the appeal of the game and the desire to play it for several hours at a time.

“If you need anything, this place is small enough that you can find me. Or call, I guess. Now, Lady L-O-T-R beckons,” Britta said, her last sentence sounding almost wistful. She patted Jeff on the shoulder before slipping away out of his sight.

“Hey, thanks for walking me through this, Britts,” he said, turning slightly so that he was calling out to her over his shoulder. But, she had already been sucked in by the allure of pixelated Frodo Baggins and didn’t hear him.

\---

After about two hours of playing, Jeff had to admit that he wasn’t good at pinball by any stretch of the imagination - he needed to work on his hand-eye coordination, he thought - but he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t having any fun.

He watched Abed play Galaga for a bit and pretended not to be impressed by the high scores he was racking up without hardly even breaking a sweat. He joined Chang for a game of two-player Twilight Zone pinball and watched Frankie and Annie play a few rounds of Street Fighter, coming away from the latter being a little bit scared of his friends’ competitive fury. However, he had barely seen Britta since she’d walked him through his first pinball game. He figured that they’d probably just kept circling around each other, finding machines in different corners of the establishment all afternoon. But on his way back to find the Game of Thrones machine again, he spotted her standing over the Lord of the Rings one once more, hunched over with her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail as she stared down at the glass case.

Jeff made his way over to her side and patted her on the shoulder to alert her of his presence once he was sure that she didn’t have a ball in play.

“Hey, stranger. I’ve hardly seen you since we got here,” he remarked.

Britta gave him a small smile. “Yeah? Well, I’ve been busy. You enjoying yourself?”

“Yeah, totally. Honestly, I see why you guys like this so much.”

“I’m glad!” she said, sounding almost scarily cheerful to Jeff, “Any machines you’ve found that you like a lot?”

“The Addams Family one, for sure. I kind of enjoyed some of the classic ones, too. Those are a lot easier to get the hang of. But I’ve also been watching some of the others play the arcade games. Annie’s been practically hanging off of Frankie all afternoon, whenever they’re not kicking each other’s asses in different fighting games. Abed’s been stationed at the Galaga machine for at least an hour. I haven’t seen Chang in a while, and I think that worries me?” Jeff said, updating her on the whereabouts of their friends, “Anyway, I’m glad that I found you, because there’s only so much Addams Family pinball that a man can play by himself.”

Britta scoffed. “Speak for yourself. I could spend _all day_ right here.” She launched her next ball and lasered her focus onto the machine. The ball shot up the first ramp and over to the first trio of bumpers, bouncing around several times before rolling down towards the flippers. Britta skillfully hit the right flipper at the perfect moment so that the ball shot straight up into an opening on the backboard, locking into place with a loud click.

“What’s happening? Is that good?” Jeff asked.

The red LED screen was showing a pixelated image of Frodo Baggins, which Britta was watching intently.

“Yeah. It gives me a Fellowship bonus, and means that I’ve collected Frodo. If I collect enough members of the Fellowship, then I get a multi-ball round,” she explained without a hint of irony. Jeff watched in amazement as the ball was launched out of the place where it had been locked and shot back down the board. Britta waited to hit the flipper until it was at the exact right spot for her to launch it up towards one of the ramps.

“Wow. So you’re even more of a nerd than I thought you were just a few hours ago,” he said, leaning against the side of the machine and smirking as he watched her continue to play. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, her gaze not wavering from the ball.

“I’m not a nerd,” she grumbled, “I just enjoy a round of pinball every now and again!”

Jeff was certain that she’d played a little more than just every now and again as he watched the little silver ball careen around the playfield and she triggered bonus after bonus; hitting bumpers, traveling up and down ramps, and hitting assorted themed obstacles on its journey. Watching her play was almost mesmerizing. Jeff was admiring not only the flashing lights of the machine, but also Britta’s intensity and the sheer amount of skill that she was demonstrating.

“Damn, how come I didn’t know that you were secretly a pinball wizard?” he muttered. It had been almost a minute and the same ball was still in play.

Britta shrugged the best she could with both of her hands stationed at the flipper buttons. “Guess there was never a good time to bring it up. And I’m nowhere close to being a wizard. I’m just pretty decent.”

“Well, you’re better than me.”

“Duh doy. I totally would have guessed that.”

Jeff rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “That was supposed to be a compliment.”

“Sure. Whatever.”

The ball rolled back towards Britta, but she missed hitting it by a millisecond.

“Fuck!” she yelped, hitting the side of the machine, “That was my last one.”

“Sorry if I distracted you,” Jeff said.

She shrugged, clearly trying to remain calm and nonchalant. “It’s whatever. This is my second highest score of the day, so not too bad. And bold of you to assume that you could ever distract me from Lord of the Rings pinball.”

He looked towards the LED screen where her point total was displayed alongside a pixelated Galadriel. It was a number much higher than anything he’d gotten that day, that much was for sure.

“Wow. Good for you,” he said, intending for the remark to come off as sarcastic. However, it ended up sounding incredibly sincere once the words left his mouth.

Britta’s mouth quirked up into a smirk as she stepped away from the machine. “Thanks. You wanna go grab some food? There’s a burger place next door that has pretty good veggie burgers,” she asked, pointing to her left.

Jeff considered the offer for a moment, doing a quick scan of the area to see if any of their other friends were in the immediate area. He didn’t see any of them nearby, so he looked back to Britta and gave a small nod.

“Sure. Burgers sound great.”

\---

As it turned out, the rest of their friends were a step ahead of them and were already stuffed into a small booth at the burger place.

Annie spotted Britta and Jeff first and waved them over to the table. “Hey! We were just wondering where you guys were,” she said as they approached the group.

“We thought that you might have been…you know…” Chang said with a suggestive eyebrow raise. Annie reached over to swat his arm, giving a slight shake of her head.

“What, playing pinball?” Britta completed the sentence, feigning complete and total innocence.

“Something like that…” Chang grumbled.

Britta rolled her eyes before turning back to Jeff. “Whatever. We’re gonna go order, make room for us before we get back!”

Frankie glanced nervously around the table at how densely the group was already packed into the incredibly small booth. “...we’ll do our best.”

\---

The seating dilemma was solved by pulling an open chair up to the end of the table so that only Britta had to squeeze into one side of the booth next to Annie and Abed. Her and Jeff returned with their food (a veggie burger for Britta, a cheeseburger topped with a sunny side-up egg and bacon for Jeff, and sweet potato fries for both of them) and everyone attempted to arrange themselves so that they were all as comfortable as possible.

Once they were settled, Britta set the basket of fries between her and Jeff and reached to grab a handful. Jeff reached over to swat her hand away, causing her to shoot him a frustrated glare.

“What?”

“Don’t hog all the fries! I can actually eat these since they’re low fat.”

“You can _actually_ eat whatever you want,” Britta protested, “ _and_ you can buy another basket if you really want to!”

“But it’s a lot of work to get up and order another one!” Jeff whined.

Frankie leaned across the table close to Annie. “Are they always like this outside of meetings?” she whispered, clearly trying to be sneaky, but Britta heard her nonetheless.

“Like what, Frankie?” Britta asked, crossing her arms defiantly. Annie gave Frankie a small nod as the older woman retreated back to her side of the table.

“Like…this. Bickering.”

Jeff shrugged. “I don’t know. We-”

“Yes. It got better for a few years, but we’ve regressed back to their season one dynamic,” Abed interjected, sounding almost defeated.

“We don’t have seasons, Abed. Our lives aren’t a TV show,” Jeff grumbled.

“That’s what you think…” Abed muttered cryptically.

“I see. Well, anyway…how long have you two been together?” Frankie asked innocently.

Britta nearly knocked over her Diet Coke and Jeff almost choked on a fry.

 _“This again?!”_ Jeff thought, growing more than a little perturbed at the constant insistence that him and Britta were anything more than friends.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“We’re not…us two, together? No, not like that. No,” Jeff eloquently elaborated.

“Oh, pardon me for assuming. I just knew that you lived together, and with all the bickering and scheming and hand holding…it’s easy to get confused.”

“It is,” Abed remarked, methodically swirling a fry around in his ketchup.

“Yeah. Um, no. We’re just…friends. You know. Rent is too damn high around here to be living alone!” Britta elaborated.

“The rent here is actually incredibly reasonable,” Frankie said, her expression remaining completely neutral.

“Well…we’re living on the salaries of a teacher and a bartender. They’re not as nice as yours, I presume. Also, friends hold hands all the time! I mean, Abed, you and Troy-”

“I’d rather not talk about him right now,” Abed interjected.

“Okay, but you get what I’m saying. We-”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to defend yourselves. I believe you,” Frankie said, cutting Jeff off.

The entire table fell silent for a moment, no one quite sure where to take the conversation from there.

“So…what was everyone’s favorite game?” Annie asked, timidly breaking the silence.

“The old school Star Wars machine. Not the new one, the huge screen is too distracting,” Abed replied.

Chang narrowed his eyes judgmentally. “I liked the Star Trek one.”

Abed shrugged. “That one’s fine, too. Just a little too flashy for me.”

As the conversation continued, Jeff reached to grab another sweet potato fry, his hand brushing against Britta’s as he did so. Both of the hands retreated from the basket as they sheepishly looked up at each other.

“Um…”

“We don’t have to get all weird just because of what the others said earlier. We’ve made it this long, right?” Britta said quietly, leaning in closer to Jeff.

His mouth quirked up into a small smile. “Yeah. You’re right.”

“Wait, can you say that again?” Britta asked. She moved to pull her phone out of her back pocket and held it up to his face. “I want video proof that you once said I was right about something.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Jeff groaned, gently pushing her phone away. She laughed and a broad grin spread across her face, and Jeff briefly wondered if it was possible to capture the joy radiating from her in this moment and save it for a rainy day.

\---

Jeff had made no plans for Sunday, deciding that he was entitled to a day of laying around his apartment and watching mediocre blockbusters, maybe with Britta, maybe without. As such, he woke up at 9 - about two hours later than usual - and skipped his usual morning run.

While he was making up a pot of coffee, his phone buzzed, notifying him of a Facebook message from a user that he didn’t recognize.

_“Hi, Jeff. Do you have a moment to talk?”_

_“Depends. Who are you and what do you want to talk about?”_ he messaged back.

He was pouring out a mug of coffee and stirring in vanilla creamer when he received a response.

_“My name is George Perry. I was sent your Facebook profile by someone who knows my daughter, Britta. I’d like to talk about her.”_

The container of coffee creamer almost slipped out of his hand as he read the message.

 _“Fuck. I gotta go find Britta,”_ Jeff thought. He scooped up his phone and abandoned his coffee on the counter in order to run off and find his roommate. Luckily, she was easily located; sitting on her bed folding clothes with the door to her room wide open.

“Hey, Jeff! What’s up?”

“I got a message. From your dad,” he said, nearly breathless.

The color instantly drained from Britta’s face. “Oh my god, what? I mean...oh my god. What did he say? What did _you_ say?”

“He just told me who he was and that he wanted to talk about you.”

Britta dropped the pair of pants that she was folding and frantically shoved the rest of the clothes aside to make a space on her bed. She then gestured for Jeff to come in and sit next to her. “Find out what he wants. Please.”

He readily joined her and nodded, pulling his phone out and opening the conversation with George Perry. “What do you want me to say back?” he asked, tilting the screen towards Britta so that she could read all of their messages.

“Just ask why he wants to talk about me.”

Jeff did just that, to which he received a speedy reply.

_“I have contacts at Greendale, and they’ve told me that she recently moved in with you. I’d like to send some money your way to help out, since I know she probably isn’t paying rent.”_

“What fucking contacts?!” Britta exclaimed. She punched the mattress and let out a strangled cry, causing Jeff to wrap one arm around her shoulders and begin to gently rub her arm.

“Do you want me to ask about that?”

“Yes. Please.”

 _“Who are your contacts? And no thank you, I don’t want to take any money from you.”_ Jeff sent back.

 _“Just a few different students. Since Britta won’t talk to me or her mother, we have to keep up with her somehow,”_ George replied.

“Oh my god…who do you think…? Why would he even do that?! I don't want anything to do with them, I thought the feeling was mutual,” Britta muttered, looking tearfully up at Jeff.

“None of our friends, I’m sure. I can ask for specifics, if you want.”

“No, never mind. I don’t want to know,” she said softly, “Ask if that’s all he wanted.”

_“Is that all you wanted to talk about?”_

George’s reply took almost a minute to come in, a minute that Jeff spent rubbing Britta’s back and doing his best to make sure that she was doing okay.

_“No. Her mother and I were wondering if you might be able to convince her to come have dinner with us. We want a chance to make things right.”_

Britta went silent upon reading the final message. Jeff turned off his phone and set it aside, turning his full attention to his roommate.

“I won’t send anything else back today. I can block him, actually, if you want me to,” he said quickly.

“That’s very kind of you,” she replied, taking a deep and shaky breath, “You’ve handled this surprisingly well. That…kind of came out wrong. But thanks for understanding and asking me what I wanted you to do.”

“Of course. I know a thing or two about shitty dads,” Jeff said with a humorless laugh.

“Yeah. Thanks for not asking me to justify anything, either. I know I wasn’t the best with that when you met your dad a couple years ago, so I really didn’t deserve that.”

Jeff waved his free hand dismissively. “It’s nothing. We’ve both changed a lot since then.”

Britta gave a weak smile. “Yeah. We have.” She slowly leaned into Jeff, resting her head lightly on his shoulder. He brought his other arm up around her and tightened his embrace as he continued to rub her shoulder with his thumb.

“So, uh…do you want me to block your dad? Or-”

“No. Not yet. This might sound crazy, but…I think I should go see my parents.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I just don’t know if I want to live with the what-if’s. I’d rather know exactly what they have to say for themselves,” Britta explained.

“That makes sense,” Jeff said, “I, uh…I’d be willing to come with you, if you wanted. Since you came with me to meet my dad.”

“Oh, please don’t feel like you have to reciprocate the favor. I don’t know if I could, in good conscience, put you through a dinner with my parents.”

“I want to, Britts. I really do. If you want me there for emotional support or to beat up your dad or whatever, I’ll be there. I know we give each other a lot of shit, but I really do care about you. I don’t want you to have to do this alone if you don’t want to,” Jeff insisted.

Britta considered the proposition for a moment, staring blankly off in the direction of her closet door.

“You mean it?”

“I do. Of course I do.”

She turned to direct her gaze back up at Jeff, giving him a soft smile as she dabbed at the corner of one eye. “Alright, then. I hope you’re prepared for how badly this could go,” Britta said with a little laugh.

He smiled back and lifted one hand to wipe away a tear leaking out of her other eye. “I am. I’m sure it won’t be that bad. And if it is, we can just bail and go get frozen yogurt.”

“Only if you’re buying.”

Jeff’s smile widened the slightest bit. “Usually I’d argue, but sure. No matter what happens, I’ll buy you frozen yogurt. And that's a promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> was this incredibly self-indulgent?? yes. do I regret making Britta love the Lord of the Rings pinball machine as much as I do?? no, not at all.
> 
> as always, please leave any thoughts/opinions/etc. down below!! next chapter is going to probably be another long one and a little bit of a doozy, not going to lie.


	5. When to Reconcile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Britta prepares to see her parents for the first time in 17 years and Jeff tracks down a wacky inventor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so the next two chapters were written as one mega chapter that I decided to break up for ease of reading! I'm still editing the second part, so that will probably be up sometime tomorrow. however, this part was ready to go, so I decided to go ahead and post it! hope you all enjoy <3

Britta woke up on Monday morning with a pit in her stomach. It didn’t go away when Jeff told her that her dad had offered to have them over for dinner the very next day. Or even when, after an almost entirely silent commute, they arrived in Study Room F for the Save Greendale Committee’s morning meeting.

“Good morning!” Annie greeted them cheerfully. She was sitting in Chang’s usual chair so that she could show Frankie something in her massive binder, the two women huddled close together as they poured over the pages. Abed was visibly craning his neck to see what they were looking at from where he sat, but seemed to be having little success doing so.

“Morning,” Britta replied unenthusiastically.

“Still recovering from all of that pinballing?” Abed asked, throwing up dual finger guns.

Britta flashed him a small smile. “Something like that.”

Her and Jeff moved to take their seats while Annie migrated back to her own so that Chang could sit down in his normal spot.

“We’re all here? Great, I only have a few things to mention today, so I’ll try to keep this brief,” Frankie began, “So, to start-”

“Ah! Tax returns! History lessons! The great frontier!”

The committee members all turned to see the Dean stumbling into the room wearing a large VR headset and holding bulky controllers in each of his hands. When he reached Jeff’s chair, he stopped and lifted the headset to look at them.

“Oh, hello there! Guess what I just purchased for the school from a local manufacturer?”

“A dumb headband and some disconnected nunchunks?” Jeff asked snarkily.

“Ha ha, Jeffrey. No, it’s Greendale’s first virtual reality operating system!” the Dean corrected, sounding overly enthusiastic.

“Did Greendale really _need_ a virtual reality system?” Frankie asked. She narrowed her eyes at the Dean as she examined the rig, clearly trying to understand its function.

“Uh, like a hole in the head.”

Frankie exchanged an exasperated look with Annie before turning back to the Dean. “A hole in the head is something that you don’t need,” she explained, gesturing down at the table to emphasize each word.

“She said through a huge hole in her head,” he shot back.

Frankie gasped, one hand flying up to her face to cover her mouth. Jeff rolled his eyes at the comeback and shifted in his chair so that he was fully facing the Dean.

“You know that VR went out of style in the 90’s, right?”

“We mock what we don’t understand, Jeffery,” Craig replied in a sweetly condescending tone. He patted Jeff on the arm as if to soothe and silence him; a sight that Britta couldn’t help but chuckle at.

“We also mock what’s silly. Aren’t we supposed to be saving money to pay off our roof repair debt and cover the new employee health insurance plans, anyway?”

“And to replace teacher computers! We’ve had the same ones since 2003,” Chang grumbled.

“I see this as a worthy investment. No other college in the area owns a VR rig this advanced!” the Dean insisted, “I haven’t finished setting it up, though. Abed, you like tech stuff, would you want to come help me later today?”

“Can’t. I have to finish filming something for a class,” he replied quickly.

“Okay then. Annie, Britta? What about you two?”

“Mall trip,” they answered simultaneously.

“You know, one of those monthly girl trips we always go on,” Britta elaborated, looking to Annie for permission to continue with the lie. The brunette gave a subtle nod in response.

“I suppose that I could help, if only to see what exactly you blew our money on,” Frankie said, sounding almost defeated.

“I can’t. I’m having a Karate Kid marathon. With myself,” Chang added.

“A Karate Kid marathon? Why-”

“So, Jeffrey! I assume you’re doing nothing this afternoon and that you could help Frankie and I with the VR rig?” the Dean asked before Jeff could finish his question.

“Well…”

“I’ll pay you overtime for as long as it takes to set up.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” Jeff quickly agreed.

“Excellent! Well, I’ll see you two today after school. Have a _dean_ -tacular day, everyone!” Craig exclaimed, waving as he strolled out of the study room.

“I swear, those puns get worse every time…” Jeff grumbled, shaking his head.

“Aw, man, I’d hate to be you this afternoon,” Britta teased, lightly socking him on the arm.

“At least I’m getting paid overtime for it. Maybe I’ll buy us a nice bottle of red for this weekend.”

“Ooo, now _that’s_ something I can get behind. But you know that I have to work on Sunday, right? The Vatican remembered that I worked there and scheduled me every night this week from Wednesday on,” Britta groaned.

“You know, I wanted to ask if they had fired you or not, but I was a little scared to,” Jeff admitted.

Frankie cleared her throat, attempting to regain the group’s attention.

“Okay! So, as I was going to say before I was interrupted-”

“Hate to interrupt you, Frankie, but my first class starts in five minutes,” Chang interjected.

The administrative consultant let out an incoherent groan. “Alright. I guess we’ll continue this conversation tomorrow, then.” Annie mouthed a subtle “it’s okay” to her as they all collected their bags and prepared to head out to their first classes of the day.

“You think we’d be able to have one completely, totally normal day, right?” Jeff grumbled to Britta as they pushed through the library’s front doors.

For the first time that morning, she genuinely smiled and let out a bright laugh. “Oh, I gave up on hoping for one of those a long time ago.”

\---

Britta’s mood dipped again as she slogged through the few classes she had before her shift at Shirley’s Sandwiches began. It felt like her professors’ words were going in one ear only to be bounced right back out the way they came in. Her head must be too full, she decided. Too full of thoughts that she had long since attempted to banish that had all come flooding back the moment Jeff said that her dad had messaged him.

 _“I’ve agreed to see my parents,”_ she thought during a particularly boring psych lecture, _“I’m going to see my parents face-to-face for the first time in 17 years.”_

It hit her then that she’d lived without her parents for just as long as she’d lived with them. While the past 17 years hadn’t been perfect, they’d certainly resulted in a lot more good than the previous 17 had. She’d meant it when she told Abed that the day she cut her father off was the day she started being happy. It had been fleeting happiness at first, taking the form of the thrill that came with vandalizing a billboard or the comfort of crashing on a friend’s couch for a few days when she didn’t have anything better to do. But it was certainly more than her father or her mother ever provided her with their helicopter parenting and mandatory drug tests and denial of any of the real issues that she had been facing.

Not to mention, she had really built herself something special over the last few years. Jeff, Annie, Abed, Shirley, and Troy were her family. Sure, Shirley now lived across the country and Troy was god knows where on some grand adventure. But they weren’t ones to ever let physical distance define the family that they had become.

 _“I’m not seeing my parents because I need them in my life. I’m seeing them because I want to know if they deserve to be in my life again,”_ Britta ultimately assured herself.

However, all of these thoughts were still consuming her when she clocked in and fastened her Shirley’s Sandwiches apron around her waist. No amount of reassurances, from herself or others, could stop the tidal wave of past trauma that had been unleashed yesterday.

She was somewhat angrily shoving bags of chips into the display on the front counter when she heard someone come up behind her and felt a light tap on her left shoulder.

“Hey, Britta. Are you doing okay?”

She turned to see a concerned Todd standing behind her, holding a bag of sandwich bread in one hand.

“Yeah. I’m fine,” she replied dismissively, “What made you ask?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, you seemed a little more upset than usual. It’s okay if you are and don’t want to talk about it, though. I know that I’m just stupid old Todd to you guys…” Todd trailed off and looked down at the ground.

“And where’d you get _that_ idea?” Britta asked, tilting her head to the side in confusion.

“I don’t know, maybe the number of times one of your friends has called me ‘stupid old Todd’ or some other name like that,” he retorted.

Britta cringed. “Oh. Yeah. I guess that makes sense.”

“Yeah.”

Her gaze followed his down to the tile floor as her mind scrambled for a way to save the interaction.

 _“I may not be able to fix my own shit right now,”_ she thought, _“but maybe I can try to fix shit with him. For real this time.”_

“Um…I don’t know if anyone else has apologized to you yet, but on behalf of all of us, I’m sorry for how we’ve treated you. Especially with the whole lab partner thing. And the yam thing. Basically all of biology class, I guess? Anyway, you can probably tell, but we tend to get caught up in our own shit quite often. It’s easy to forget that we’re not the only people at Greendale.”

Todd looked up from the ground and gave Britta a weak smile. “Especially because you board yourselves up in that little study room every chance you get.”

“That’s fair. Harsh, but fair.”

“You know, I can’t be _that_ mad at you guys. You did give me this job, and I’m using the money to save up enough to take my family to Disneyland.”

“Aw, that’s right, you have a daughter! How old is she now?” Britta asked. She tried to hide her surprise at how quickly Todd had forgiven their past transgressions along with her surprise at how easily she was falling into polite conversation with him.

“Four years old. It’s crazy how the time flies,” Todd said, shaking his head incredulously, “I’m on track to graduate this year. Then, hopefully I can find a job that lets me spend more time with her.”

 _“Does everyone here have their own lives that we’ve been missing out on?”_ Britta thought. _“Wait, what the fuck, Britta, of course they do. They’re people, dumbass,”_ she quickly admonished herself.

“That’s great! Well, um…I’m glad that you’re so close to graduating. And…thanks,” she said.

“Thanks for what?”

“For, uh, checking in on me. Especially since my friends and I haven’t been the nicest to you over the years,” Britta elaborated.

“Hey, it’s alright. Clean slate?” he proposed, holding out his hand for a fist bump. Britta chuckled and begrudgingly returned the gesture.

“Clean slate.”

“Well, this bread won’t sort itself! I’ll be in the back if you need me.” Todd gave her a mock salute before turning and heading into the back room.

She waved after him as he disappeared from her line of sight. Letting out a deep sigh, she returned to the task of restocking the chips. However, before she could finish, another familiar face bounded up to the counter and stopped to look at her expectantly.

“Hey, Britta! Do you have a moment?” Annie said.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Britta set down her half empty chip box and turned her full attention to her friend.

“So, uh, this might be a little out of the blue, but I was thinking…do you actually want to go to the mall today?” Annie asked, “I know that we just used the idea as an excuse to get out of helping the Dean, but it’s been a while since we’ve gone on a trip like that! I thought it could be fun to catch up and hang out together again.”

Britta considered the proposition for a moment. “Yeah, that actually sounds really fun. Might help get my mind off…things.”

Annie gave her a glowing smile. “Great! I was hoping you would say that. It’s been too long,” she said.

“It has, hasn’t it?” Britta remarked.

“I know you carpool here with Jeff, so I can drive us there and back.”

“Sounds great. I can close up whenever, when’s your last class?”

“It ends at 4!”

“Perfect,” Britta said.

Annie beamed. “I already can’t wait!”

Britta cracked a small smile as she returned to her box of chips. “Me neither, Annie. Me neither.”

\---

The school day had barely come to a close, and Jeff’s patience with the Dean and his virtual reality rig was already running thin. Clearly, Frankie’s was too, since she was scanning the manufacturer’s website, desperately looking for a way to return the damn thing.

Out of a mixture of boredom and curiosity, he decided to text Britta.

_Hey. What are you doing rn?_

_at the mall with Annie. what’s up?_

_Nothing. If you were still on campus, I was going to ask you to bring me some scotch from my office, that’s all._

_the Dean’s project is going that badly?_

_Yeah, but it’ll be fine. Have fun with Annie._

_will do. you can tell me all about it tonight!_

Jeff sighed and shut off his phone. Out of the corner of his eye, Frankie waved to get his attention. He darted over and looked at where she was pointing on her computer screen; at instructions for how to return the rig.

“Let’s see if we can find the serial number to this system!” Frankie prompted.

“Oh, that could be fun!” the Dean agreed.

 _“Phew. Crisis averted,”_ Jeff thought, _“We just have to talk him through this, then we can put the whole thing behind us.”_

\---

“Is everything okay?” Annie asked, sounding slightly concerned. She was clearly resisting the urge to peer over Britta’s shoulder to see who she was texting, instead locking her eyes onto her cup of frozen yogurt.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, everything’s fine. Jeff was just texting me, apparently the Dean and his VR rig are somewhat of a handful,” Britta explained. She quickly fired off one last message before turning off her phone and tucking it into her pocket in order to turn her attention back to her own frozen yogurt and her friend.

“I’d expect nothing less. Don’t get me wrong, the Dean is nice, but…”

“He can be a lot sometimes,” Britta finished the sentence.

“Yeah, that’s the best way to put it,” Annie said with a laugh.

A slightly awkward silence descended over the pair. Neither of them were exactly sure what to talk about. It _had_ been a long time since they’d attempted to carry on a conversation on their own, and there were only so many snide comments that could be made about how expensive everything was in the mall’s Anthropologie.

“So…” Annie hummed, breaking the silence first, “What ‘things’ have you been dealing with?”

“What do you mean?”

“You mentioned that coming here to hang out might help you take your mind off things,” she elaborated, then quickly added, “You don’t have to share, I was just curious.”

Britta hummed, taking a moment to decide how much to tell her friend. “Well, uh…my dad messaged Jeff yesterday.”

“Wait, what?! I thought you had cut yourself off from your parents.”

“I had, a long time ago. But, turns out, they’ve been keeping tabs on me lately.”

Annie’s jaw dropped. “How?”

“My dad said that he had contacts at Greendale. I didn’t want to specifically know who,” Britta answered.

“If you want, I’ll get Jeff to ask who they are. We can beat them up for you,” Annie offered without a second thought.

Britta laughed. “I appreciate the sentiment, but it’s fine. Jeff and I are actually going over to have dinner with my parents tomorrow.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah. They invited me over and said that they wanted a second chance.”

Annie sat in silence for a moment, folding her hands in her lap and looking down at her feet. “What made you want to go back?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know everything that happened with your parents, but based on what I _do_ know, why do you want to give them that second chance?” she asked.

“I…just want to see what they have to say for themselves,” Britta began to explain, “I want to see if they’ve grown, or at least if they understand how they hurt me.”

“Clearly they haven’t grown much. I mean, who hires other people to keep tabs on their child that hasn’t contacted them in years?” Annie snapped. Quickly, her eyes darted upwards and her expression turned apologetic. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to sound so judgmental. I just know how I would handle this kind of situation, and I guess I can’t understand why you’d want to risk them hurting you again.”

“That’s entirely fair. I don’t know, I guess that’s part of wanting to see what they have to say for themselves,” Britta admitted.

Annie nodded. “I get it. Sometimes, I think about trying to reach out to my family. But the one time I did…it didn’t end super well.”

“Aw, what happened?”

“My brother came to stay with me and Abed for a couple of days last year. We had some weirdness happening with a VCR game, but aside from that, something was…off. Ultimately, he said that he didn’t understand why I cared so much about spending time with him and that he wasn’t responsible for the rest of my family cutting me off. He was right about the last part, but he didn’t even try to understand what was so hard about it,” Annie explained.

“Oh, Annie, I’m sorry. That sucks.”

“It’s okay. At least I know for sure that he doesn't want to have a relationship with me right now, you know?”

“Yeah. I’m hoping to get that kind of closure from seeing my parents. Especially since it’s been a long time since I ran away.” Britta then paused for a moment. “Kind of funny how we’re opposites, huh? I cut my parents off because they were shitty, and your parents cut you off because they’re shitty, too.”

Annie gave a humorless laugh. “I suppose that’s because, in a way, our parents are kind of opposites.”

“What do you mean?”

“From what you’ve told me about your parents, they were too overbearing. To the point where they made you feel like a prisoner, right? Mine were the opposite. They didn’t give me _enough_ attention, all they cared about were the results. As long as I gave them good grades and special program acceptances to brag about, they didn’t want to know how I got there. Which is why my mom just wanted me to keep doing what I was doing, if it was getting results. No matter how much I was suffering for them.”

Britta leaned back in her chair and took a moment to contemplate Annie’s words.

“Damn. I guess you’re right. Maybe our parents should teach a class about how to estrange your kids.”

Annie smiled. “Or write a book together.”

“Or both.”

Britta smiled back before shoving her frozen yogurt out of the way and impulsively lunging across the table to wrap her arms around Annie the best that she could. “I’m sorry that you had shitty parents.”

“I’m sorry that you did, too. And I hope they’ve changed. I really do.”

As they pulled apart and Britta settled back into her own chair, her smile widened the slightest bit. “We should hang out more often.”

“Yeah! I don’t know why I didn’t reach out to you sooner. I know we see each other every day, but I always felt weird about asking you to hang out one-on-one again,” Annie said sheepishly.

“Well, even if this whole dinner with my parents goes to shit, at least one good thing came out of it.”

“What?”

Britta gestured between herself and the other woman. “This.”

\---

Of course the Dean, determined to keep the virtual reality system, had destroyed the only way they could easily return it. _Of course._ So now, Jeff was roaming the parking lot of an old, abandoned K-Mart with only a sticky note in hand, looking for signs of the only person who could help them out of this situation.

Luckily, it wasn’t long before he stumbled across an RV surrounded by patio furniture and assorted other decorations. He assumed that must be the place he was looking for and jogged up to the side door, peering in through the window before knocking on it.

A man in a confusingly patterned sweater swung it open and gave Jeff a mildly disgruntled look.

“Yeah?”

“Are you Elroy Patashnik?”

“Who’s asking?”

“So you are, then,” Jeff said, relieved that his search wouldn’t be long and drawn out.

“How do you know for sure?” the man asked.

“No one ever says ‘who’s asking?’ to the wrong name, they just say that’s not their name,” Jeff explained, “If someone calls and asks for Pablo, I don’t say ‘who’s asking’, I just say ‘wrong number’.”

“You’re a clever young man,” Elroy said.

Jeff couldn’t quite tell if the man was being sarcastic, so he replied with “I’m 40.”

Elroy gave a small nod. “Come in,” he directed, gesturing to the inside of his RV. Jeff swiftly complied, ducking his head as he climbed the stairs leading up to the man’s living space. Elroy shut the door behind them and took a seat at the round table to Jeff’s right.

“So, what do you want?” he asked.

“You sold a VirtuGood 6500 to Craig Pelton at Greendale Community College, and we need to return it,” Jeff replied.

Elroy nodded. “Okay, I’ll need the serial number.”

“He deleted the serial number because he loves the system.”

“So, what’s the problem, then?” Elroy asked, sounding confused.

“The problem is that he paid for the system with Greendale’s money, and we’re a community college that’s currently struggling to pay for its own employees’ health insurance. We don’t need a $5,000 machine that can’t copy a file unless a fireball is thrown at it. And then dropped into a crystal lake before being thrown at the side of a mountain,” Jeff said gruffly.

“Worlds within worlds,” Elroy murmured, acting as if he had just dispensed some great wisdom.

Jeff stared at him in shock for a moment. “That doesn’t mean anything. I can copy a file by holding my finger down on a phone. I can’t, however, go to a doctor if I happen to contract a life-threatening illness unless the school gets this refund.”

“Oh, so you have a personal stake in this? What are you, a teacher at this failing school?”

“Why yes, yes I am. But that’s hardly the point. I just need you to take back this damn system and give us our money back.”

“I still don’t see what the problem is. The purchaser of this machine loves it, because it is a system designed for gods. And I-”

“Oh, come on!” Jeff interjected, quickly growing impatient, “You know how lame virtual reality is. You know the damage it caused mid-90’s cinema! I mean, Michael Douglas walking around like a jackass moving files with a magic glove?”

“You have a personal stake in the quality of mid-90’s cinema now too?”

“Yes, because I have a friend who has made me sit through a lot of it! Have you seen Lawnmower Man? I mean, talk about a garbage fire!”

“Oh, I’ve seen Lawnmower Man. I consulted on it! Built worlds within worlds,” Elroy said proudly.

“Oh, you did, huh? Is that how you ended up here?” Jeff snapped. He regretted the words the instant that they left his mouth, but it was too late to take them back.

“You don’t know anything about me, young man.”

“No, I don’t,” Jeff said with a sigh, “but I know what it’s like to lie for a living. And I know that’s what you’re doing when you sell unsuspecting community college deans $5,000 VR rigs that only make life harder for them and everyone else around them. I also know that it feels better to stop lying and find a new path. If you decide that you want to give us the mercy of a refund, you can find me at Greendale.”

Before Elroy could respond or tell Jeff to leave, he turned and walked back out the way that he came, already dreading the thought of breaking the news to Frankie.

\---

When he got back to the Dean’s office, the man was still in the rig and Frankie was slumped over on the desk in front of her. She perked up instantly at the sight of Jeff and waved him over to her.

“Any luck?”

All he could do was shake his head. Frankie groaned and pushed herself out of her seat.

“I’m going home, the overtime isn’t worth it. Oh, and to warn you, he joked about wanting a pee jar earlier. It’s gradually becoming less and less of a joke,” she said.

As she exited the room, a new face appeared in the doorway and waved to him.

“Hey! I see you got the VR rig working,” Britta said, looking over it as she bounded over to him.

“Yeah, we’re kind of in the middle of trying to return it. It’s not as useful as the $5,000 price tag would suggest,” Jeff grumbled.

“Oh. How close are we to figuring that out? Because I was wondering if you wanted to go grab dinner or-”

“And Jesus wept!” the Dean exclaimed, pulling Jeff and Britta’s attention away from their conversation.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop saying that?!” an exasperated Jeff asked.

“Oh, never enough, Jeffery. Not as long as these worlds upon worlds continue to amaze and astonish,” the Dean insisted.

Jeff rolled his eyes and marched over so that he was standing in front of the man in the rig. “Okay, playtime’s over. We can continue this discussion tomorrow, but right now, I want to go eat Thai food and get drunk with my roommate. If you don’t get out of there right now, I’m going to come over and pull you out.”

“I’ll bite you,” the Dean countered.

“I’ll beat you up.”

Britta gave Jeff a small smack on the arm, glaring at him for issuing the threat.

“I’ll like it, and then I’ll fire you and get right back in it.”

“C’mon, just get out of it! It can’t be that great, we all saw what VR did to mid-90’s cinema,” Britta insisted.

Jeff flashed her a quick smile before he advanced closer to the Dean. “Alright, let’s get you out.”

“Wait, hold it.”

The trio looked over to the doorway, and Jeff and Britta were greeted with the sight of Elroy standing before them.

“Who are you?” Britta asked.

“I’m Elroy Patashnik.”

The Dean gasped. “The Architect!”

Jeff eyed the other man suspiciously as he stepped towards the system and placed a hand on the outer rail.

“I’ve come to tell you something very important about this system,” Elroy started, pausing to collect himself, “It’s…lame.”

“What?” the Dean squeaked.

“I’ve wasted your time with it. And 10 crucial years of America’s time. I’m giving Mr. Winger your refund.”

“Thank you. And…I’m really sorry for insulting you earlier. I didn’t mean it, this whole situation just stressed me out, I guess,” Jeff said.

“Apology accepted. Now, I’ll take this back so that maybe I can make something more useful with the parts,” Elroy replied, tapping on the outside of the rig.

“No! I don’t want a refund!” the Dean exclaimed, “I wanna stay in here forever, and you can’t stop me!”

“Jesus, he’s only had this thing for a few hours and we’ve already lost him?” Britta remarked.

“I’m afraid that the more susceptible members of our society can quickly become addicted to the feeling of power that comes with the machine. Although, I must ask, is this really the person who runs your school?”

Jeff and Britta both nodded solemnly. Elroy shook his head as he set down the briefcase he’d carried in and set about opening it up.

“Well then, to use a phrase I coined in the 90’s, I’m going in,” he said as he pulled out another headset similar to the one that the Dean was wearing.

“There’s _no way_ you invented that phrase,” Britta scoffed.

“Oh, we don’t know that for sure, Britts,” Jeff said, smirking, “After all, he was a consultant for Lawnmower Man.”

\---

After a fifteen minute adventure that probably would have been more exciting if Britta and Jeff could have seen what was going on, the Dean extracted himself from the rig and returned all of the equipment to Elroy, along with a personal check to compensate him for the enjoyment he’d gotten out of it.

They swung by their favorite Thai place on the way back to their apartment and Jeff ran into the liquor store next door to get a bottle of wine, just as he’d promised. When they were back at home, they set out all the food on the countertop, and Jeff got down his two fanciest wine glasses to accompany their feast.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever been so glad to be home,” he said, sighing happily as he settled onto one of his barstools and grabbed a container of pad thai.

Britta laughed. “Seemed like you and Frankie had been through a lot. Glad I was at the mall with Annie instead.”

“That’s right, you bastard! You lied to get out of helping!”

“But technically, we _did_ end up going to the mall together, so it wasn’t really a lie.”

Jeff rolled his eyes as he set down the takeout container in order to pick up his wine glass. “Sure, sure. How was your outing, by the way?”

“Good! Really good. We, uh…ended up talking about our parents. It was nice to get some stuff off my chest,” Britta said.

“That’s good,” Jeff said, “Especially since…you know…”

“We’re seeing them tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

Britta looked down at her roti for a moment, a kind of unidentifiable sadness in her eyes. Jeff was about to initiate a change of topic when she perked up again and did it herself.

“So who was that guy, again? Some wacky inventor?” she asked.

“Basically. He invented the VR rig, and the Dean destroyed the only thing that would let us return it, so I had to track him down and personally ask for his help,” Jeff replied, swirling his glass of wine.

“That was lucky that he’s local.”

“He’s living out of a van in a nearby parking lot. So much for successful, rich engineers, huh.”

Britta’s mouth turned up into a wry smile. “Part of you wants to take him in, doesn’t it?”

“What?! No! But…you know, if I could do anything to help him find a better place to live, l would,” Jeff said flippantly, “But he will not be another broken person that flocks to me like moths to flame.”

“Have you ever considered the fact that broken people flock to you because you put out a signal that guides us to you?” Britta asked, placing her elbow on the counter and leaning towards Jeff.

“What does that even mean?”

“You’ve said for years that we flock to you, and you can’t understand why. Maybe it’s because you love helping people and want to help as many as possible to make up for…something in your past.”

Jeff sighed and rolled his eyes. “I am _not_ letting you therapize me at this time of night while we’re both under a lot of stress.”

Britta smirked triumphantly as she retreated back to her wine glass. “Whatever. You know I’m right.”

“Maybe. But I’ve done enough of admitting _that_ lately,” Jeff said.

“I beg to differ, I don’t know if you can ever do enough of it. I still haven’t recorded you saying those exact words.”

Jeff sighed again as Britta laughed. She leaned over and buried her face in his arm this time, and Jeff thought that maybe all of his calling out to others that were as broken as he was hadn’t been such a bad thing after all.


	6. When Not to Reconcile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Britta and Jeff join Deb and George Perry for dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heads up that this chapter deals with family issues/familial trauma/etc. so please skip this one if you have to!

That night, Britta slept better than she’d anticipated, probably on account of the three glasses of wine she’d had lulling her right to sleep. Potentially, it was also because she’d asked Jeff to stay with her, and it was easier to fall asleep in his warm embrace than it was on her own.

No matter the case, she was surprisingly chipper and practically bouncing around Shirley’s Sandwiches despite knowing what the evening held for her and Jeff.

 _“Maybe I’m just trying to savor my last few hours of freedom,”_ she thought, _“Geez, that’s a little morbid. It’ll be fine, everything will be fine. I wanted to do this. I’m choosing to do this.”_

She was repeating this mantra in her head while busy restocking the sauces when a deep voice pulled her attention away from the task at hand.

“What is this, a knock-off Subway?”

Britta turned to see Elroy in a brightly colored cable-knit sweater, leaning on the front counter and observing the sandwich stand.

“Psh. Subway wishes they could be us. Our bread is actually real bread and not just sugary yoga mats,” Britta retorted.

Elroy shrugged. “Fair enough. I may actually come back here for lunch. Something tells me that today is gonna be a long day.”

“Why’s that?” Britta abandoned the sauce caddy in favor of walking over to the counter to continue talking to him.

“Well, it’s my first day of college in years. Decades, actually. The Dean gave me a check for the time that he did spend using my rig and suggested that I use it to take a class at Greendale, since I have no idea what to do with the rest of my life.”

“Aw, I’m sure it will be fine! This place has its…quirks, but most people are nice!”

“I’m noticing that the student body skews much older than a typical community college’s. Should that worry me?” Elroy asked, his eyes darting around the cafeteria.

“Not really. Only if you’re worried about getting stuck here forever,” Britta said, elbowing the part of his arm that she could reach, as if she’d just told a hilarious joke.

Elroy considered her statement for a moment, then shrugged. “If that’s the worst thing I have to worry about, so be it. I’ll see you later…what’s your name again? Brittany?”

“Britta,” she gently corrected.

“Alright then. Bye, Britta.”

“Bye, Elroy!”

Todd wasted no time in sliding down from where he’d been standing by the oven to where Britta was standing.

“Who’s that guy? Should I know him?”

“He’s an inventor, worked in developing VR for a while,” Britta explained.

“Well, then what’s he doing here?” Todd asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.

Britta shrugged. “Same thing we’re all doing here, I guess. Trying to become a better person.”

—-

“I just need to finish closing up and then we’ll be on our way,” Britta promised.

The rest of the day had gone by far too quickly, and now Jeff was standing in front of her with a sullen look on his face.

“It looks closed up to me. Remember, we have to go home and change before heading over. We don’t have a ton of time,” he gently reminded her.

Britta tried to stop her lip from trembling. _“You don’t have a ton of time,”_ her mind echoed, _“You're running out of time to back out. You’re running out of time until you have to see their faces again.”_

“Yeah, I know,” she replied out loud, “I just have to…put this box in the back! Then we’ll be on our way.” She picked up a nearby half-empty box of chips and shuffled to the back, practically tossing it into an area that it didn’t belong in.

Jeff circled around the counter and joined Britta beside the register, looking down to give her a sympathetic smile. “You know. we don’t have to go if you’re having second thoughts. Fro-yo is still on the table.”

“No,” Britta responded surprisingly quickly, “I need to face them again, no matter what might happen, no matter how bad it might be. Because then, at least I’ll know.”

“And knowing is half the battle.”

Britta rolled her eyes. “Whatever, let’s get out of here before you start spouting off more quotes from wall art in the T.J. Maxx bargain bins.”

When they linked arms like it was something they’d been doing their whole lives, Britta paused for a moment.

 _“Maybe Frankie and everyone else is right. Maybe Jeff and I_ have _gotten too close,”_ she thought.

But maybe there was no such thing as getting too close with Jeff Winger. Being close to him was too good to give up, she decided.

—-

“Hey, so, I was thinking…do you want to establish a safe word?”

After several silent minutes in the car on the way to her parents’ house, that was one of the last things Britta had expected to hear.

“Excuse me?”

“You know, some word or phrase you can say to let me know that you want to get out of there. I’ll make up an excuse for us to both leave if you say the word,” Jeff explained.

Britta let out a nearly imperceptible sigh of relief and considered the proposition for a moment. Eventually, she nodded in agreement. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s a good idea. What’s a word that I don’t usually say but would be able to work into conversation pretty easily?”

“How about ‘banana bread’?”

“Banana bread?”

“I don’t know, it’s the first thing I thought of. A student gave me some yesterday and it was really good,” Jeff said with a shrug.

“So you’re telling me that while we’re on our way to have dinner with my estranged parents, you’re thinking about some _banana bread_ that you ate yesterday?!” Britta asked incredulously.

“I’m thinking about banana bread _and_ establishing a safe word to help you!” he protested.

Britta rolled her eyes. “Unbelievable…”

“Hey, what did I do wrong here? I’m trying to help you!”

“Yeah, but if that banana bread was _that_ good and you really cared about me, you would have saved me some!”

Jeff frowned. “Fine. I know this isn’t easy and you’re probably very on edge right now, but can you try not to snap at me?”

Britta squeezed her eyes shut, as if the action might successfully block out the rest of the world. After it became apparent that wouldn’t work, she eased her eyes back open and nodded.

“Yeah. Sorry. You’re right, I’m just on edge.”

“That’s okay. Just…try not to take it out on me.”

“Okay,” Britta squeaked.

It had been years, but she still recognized the sign that they had just passed. They were at the entrance to her parents’ neighborhood. In almost 17 years, it looked as though nothing had changed. The same rose bushes were planted in the middle of the traffic circle up front. The same trees still stood in front of everyone’s houses, they were just bigger than she remembered them being. She heard the same shrieks of joy coming from the neighborhood pool, the source likely being a bunch of kids getting in their last swim before it closed for the winter. Everything was the same, except for Britta. She hadn’t even left Jeff’s Lexus yet and already felt out of place.

Just when she thought that she couldn’t take any more, there they were; parked right outside of her parents’ house. It was the only thing that Britta thought had changed at all, looking much more lifeless and dull than it was in her memory.

She didn’t remember actively choosing to unbuckle her seatbelt and step out of the car. It just happened. So did walking up the driveway to the front door, and so did Jeff looking at her for permission to ring the doorbell. Britta was fully convinced that she was in some kind of hyperrealistic trance when the door swung open and revealed the people standing behind it.

“Hi, Britta.”

She couldn’t help but gape at the sight of her parents standing in front of her in the doorway of her childhood home. Their smiling faces and the old brick and the same chandelier that she’d last seen when she was seventeen were almost too much to take in all at once.

When she didn’t immediately step forward, Jeff tentatively placed a hand on Britta’s shoulder. He wanted to provide physical reassurance that he was there; that she had someone standing behind her, both literally and figuratively.

The reassurance was all she needed to take the steps to cross the threshold, her parents parting to let her through. Jeff followed close behind and closed the front door as Britta continued to gawk at the sights all around her.

“Hi,” she squeaked after another moment had passed.

“It’s so nice to see your face,” her mother said, almost tearful as she clutched onto her husband’s arm.

“Same here,” her father added, “and it’s nice to finally meet you, Jeff.” He held out his left hand for a handshake, a gesture that Jeff skeptically reciprocated.

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Perry.”

“Oh, please, call me George,” he insisted.

“Shall we go sit in the living room and catch up?” Deb suggested, “Dinner’s almost ready, I made chicken parmesan!”

“I’m a vegetarian…” Britta grumbled.

Her mother’s cheerful expression faltered. “Well, you can have the pasta and salad, then. Sorry, it’s easy to forget about these things after all this time.”

“I find that hard to believe, considering that my choice to become a vegetarian in the 8th grade was one that you consistently fought against and tried to talk me out of,” Britta fired back.

“Come on, Britta. Let’s go sit down, is this really how you want this to start?” George asked. She glared at him, but ultimately complied with her parents’ request. Muscle memory led her to the living room, which had changed the most out of everything that Britta had seen so far; no longer furnished with shag carpet and sofas from the 70’s. Now, everything was much more sleek and refined, almost trendy.

She decided to take a seat on the couch to their right, Jeff swiftly joining her. Her parents filed in shortly after and settled onto the couch across from the two of them. Deb was smiling broadly, George’s face had come to rest in an almost wistful expression, and Britta was glaring back at both of them.

“So…what have you been up to lately?” Deb asked, settling her hands down in her lap.

“Well, I’m pursuing a psychology degree at Greendale Community College. But you already knew that, didn’t you?” Britta replied, narrowing her eyes.

Deb cleared her throat. “Yes, we did know that. I take it that Jeff told you that we were keeping tabs on you, then.”

“Yes, he did. Because he’s a good friend, and immediately showed me the messages that you were sending him.” Britta pointed an accusatory finger at her father.

“Friend? Not boyfriend?” Deb asked, sounding almost distraught.

“Well, hold on,” George interjected, “We wanted to keep up with you, Britta. You left us no choice. When we first saw that your Facebook profile listed Greendale as your school, we were just ecstatic that you’d finally settled down a little. Garrett and Vicki were more than happy to give us updates. They told us about your little group and that dance you threw and that kid you saved…we’re just so proud of you.”

Britta’s eyes narrowed as her mind ran through each of the events he had just rattled off. “So how long has this been going on? Five years?”

“Something like that. But you’d cut us out, sweetie. And we’re still your parents. Even if you didn’t want us in your life, we still wanted to know how you were doing,” Deb said, “I mean, Jeff, your parents like to keep up with you, don’t they?”

Britta stifled a laugh, earning a glare from Jeff before he turned back to Deb and George.

“No. My parents got divorced when I was young, and I didn’t see my dad for years. I went to see him a couple Thanksgivings ago, but now, we’re back to not talking. My mom moved out of state a little while back and she calls once in a blue moon,” he answered.

Deb’s smile faltered, prompting another snicker from Britta. “Oh. I see. I’m sorry about that.”

“Look, we’ve spent almost two decades without our daughter. We don’t want to fight or dredge up the past. We just want time with you,” George said.

Everyone in the room fell silent, their gazes all drifting towards Britta. Jeff covertly moved his hand to rest on her back and began rubbing circles with his thumb. Briefly, she thought about saying “banana bread”, going to get fro-yo, and forgetting that this nightmare had ever happened. But something that she’d noticed in her dad’s voice and her mom’s eyes made her plant her feet firmly on the ground and dare to look back up at them.

“Okay. We can set everything aside. For now,” she agreed. Her parents each seemed to let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh, that’s so nice to hear!” Deb squealed.

“Absolutely. Well, uh…you know how I always said that I was going to build a cover for the patio in the back? You might be happy to know that I finally did last weekend,” George said proudly.

“Oh, wow. Only took you thirty years,” Britta said. It was unclear to everyone - including herself - if she was lightly joking or actively trying to be mean.

“I know! We, um, know you have school on the weekdays, but how do kids spend their weekends these days?” he asked.

“Well, _this_ kid has two jobs. I have to send reports on the sandwich shop to my friend that owns it every weekend, and sometimes pick up shifts at the bar I work at,” Britta replied.

“So responsible…” Deb murmured.

“Other than that, I pretty much just spend time with Jeff and everyone.”

“Yeah, last weekend, we all went to a pinball museum in Denver,” Jeff added.

“Wait, that place is still open? You still go there?” George asked excitedly.

Britta tensed before nodding slowly. Jeff glanced over to her, a look of recognition on his face as if to say _“so_ that’s _who you used to play pinball with”._

“Mhm. I hadn’t been in a while, but our friends wanted to go.”

“Do they still have that Lord of the Rings pinball machine you loved?”

“Yeah, they do,” Britta replied, “and the old Star Trek one that you liked. And so many new ones, even since the last time I had been there.”

“I can’t believe that there’s still companies making those things,” George said, shaking his head.

Jeff chuckled. “I didn’t even know that people still _played_ pinball until last weekend.”

“I’m surprised that Britta hadn’t taken you before then. We used to go all the time, we’d make a day of it. Set off in the morning, play for a few hours, get burgers from next door, then play some more.”

“Those were the days, weren’t they?” Britta said. Her intentions were once again unclear; impossible to tell if she was being sarcastic or sincere.

George looked down at the round coffee table between them. “Yes. Well, you might also be happy to hear that your mother was promoted to head librarian a few years ago.”

“And your father opened up his own consulting firm!” Deb added excitedly.

Britta forced a smile. “Good for you guys.”

“Thank you. You said that you’re helping out your friend with her sandwich stand, but that bar, what did Garrett say it was called? The Vatican?” George mused, looking to his wife for corroboration of his claim.

She grimaced at the mention of collecting information from her classmate. “Yes, but not as much. It’s more part-time now that Shirley can afford to pay me decently.”

“Oh, good. We tucked away some money to help Jeff cover your rent and utilities if you couldn’t make payments, but-”

“That won’t be necessary,” Britta and Jeff said in unison.

“Aw, look at you two,” Deb cooed, “Well, the chicken parm should be close to done, so I’ll go pull it out of the oven. George, why don’t you come help me plate everything up? And you two can make your way to the dining room.”

Jeff and Britta nodded as her parents got up and headed towards the kitchen. Once they were out of earshot, Jeff turned to Britta and moved his hand up to her shoulder.

“How are you doing?”

“Surprisingly? Fine. I won’t lie and say that I’m having a ball, but they seem…better. Less angry and vindictive, almost…harmless,” Britta said.

“That’s good.”

“I mean, I’m still not okay with them spying on me through Garrett and Vicki. And they don’t want to talk about the past right now. I…get it, I guess. We’ll get there,” she added.

Jeff nodded. “Okay. Just don’t forget about banana bread.”

Britta couldn’t help but laugh at how his serious expression paired with the statement. “I won’t, I promise.”

\---

It was only a few more minutes before all four of them were seated around the table, plates of pasta, chicken parmesan, and salad in front of them. Britta’s mom had also poured white wine for all so that they could toast before they began eating.

“Here’s to new beginnings!” Deb exclaimed, holding her glass aloft.

“Mhm,” Britta mumbled. The rest of the table held their glasses up to meet Deb’s in the middle, clinking them together before pulling them back in and drinking from them. Britta took a rather large swig, mostly out of habit, but partially because she felt like needed it despite how well things seemed to be going.

“You know, to be honest, we were a little worried about tonight. But I’m glad that you’ve grown up so much,” George said as he started to cut into his chicken.

Britta nearly choked on a piece of lettuce. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh, you know…your childishness didn’t help things back in the day. I’m happy to see that you’ve become the grown up Britta we always knew you could be.”

“I was childish because _I was a child_. You were the adults in every situation,” Britta said flatly.

“George, Britta, can we talk about this later? Please, let us eat,” Deb pleaded. They each looked back down at their plates, Britta deciding to take her flash of anger out on her pasta.

“Do you remember the Harrisons? They still live down the street, and Joseph's in town right now if you want to go say hi,” Deb said, trying to take the reins of the conversation.

“I do. I might,” Britta answered simply.

“We used to vacation with them,” Deb began explaining to Jeff, “They had a cabin up in the mountains that we’d go to every fourth of July. Their son was Britta’s first boyfriend, and-”

“Okay, I think that’s enough of that,” Britta interjected.

“She’s just saying that because she doesn’t want you to know about her lesbian phase. The end of that story is that their daughter was her first and only girlfriend,” George said.

Britta shook her head. “Not only girlfriend, just the only one you knew about…”

“Of course, there’s nothing wrong with that. Whatever makes you happy is fine,” he quickly added.

The group fell into a tense silence as they all took a sudden interest in the food on their plates.

“So, you guys into any sports?” Jeff asked after a moment. Britta shot him a look that seemed to say _“that’s all you’ve got?”_ to which he could only shrug.

“I enjoy a round of golf every once in a while,” George answered, “I also like keeping up with European soccer. I’ve always been a bit subversive that way.”

“Me too!” Jeff said, quickly trying to tamp down his excitement, “You know, casually.”

“I’m glad that you’re a man of taste.”

“Thank you, I try my best.”

Britta could barely suppress an eyeroll at the interaction. Thankfully, her mother piped up to steer the conversation away from topics that could allow Jeff and her dad to bond any more.

“So, Britta, when are you set to graduate?” Deb asked.

“Um, hopefully sometime next year. I declared my major at the beginning of junior year, so I had a little catching up to do,” she replied. It was a somewhat touchy subject, but still better than her dad trying to form a connection with Jeff, Britta decided.

“And Jeff, what do you do? Are you still a student? I forgot to ask earlier.”

“I teach law at Greendale,” he answered.

Deb’s face lit up. “Oh, that’s a good, stable job!”

“One would think,” Britta muttered, “Anyway, how’s everyone at the library, mom?”

“Oh, most of the people you knew have moved onto other things. Marjorie still works there though, and so does Susan,” Deb said.

“Good to hear.”

“Where do you think you’ll work after you graduate? I mean, the whole degree would sort of be a waste if you just keep tending bar,” George said with a laugh. The sound of his laughter stung as it hit Britta’s ears, somehow worming its way into her brain and beginning to dredge up memories of all the other times she had heard that particular pitch.

“I don’t have anything lined up. I need to get a master’s degree for most jobs in the field, so that will probably be next. Or something like a specialized program for social workers,” she said.

“So you plan to stay in school for what, the next four years?”

“Only the next three, if I’m lucky,” Britta rebutted.

“And what, you’re going to pay for that other degree with tips from the bar and the sandwich shop?” George asked.

“George!” Deb scolded him, nudging the side of his arm with her elbow.

“What? I was just asking in case she needs financial aid.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Britta said with a forced smile.

“I just thought I’d mention it. Especially since I know how little waitresses make,” George said, a hint of passive aggression to his tone.

“I promise, I’m doing just fine.”

Britta tried not to appear rattled, but she couldn’t help it. Her father’s condescending attitude awakened something that she’d been trying to stifle since the moment she walked through the front door; rage. Rage at how she had been treated by her parents. Rage at the situation that she’d ended up in. Rage at how they couldn’t think of anything specific that they had done to her. Rage at how they thought that they could just gloss over everything and be the perfect family that they never were.

She started bouncing her leg, and Jeff must have noticed, because he reached over to grab the hand that she had resting in her lap.

“It’s okay, Britts,” he murmured, rubbing his thumb in circles on the palm of her hand.

“Oh, Britts! That’s a cute nickname,” Deb cooed.

“You’re not allowed to use it,” Britta quickly clarified, a stone cold intensity suddenly consuming her.

“I get it. The boyfriend’s got to have something special.”

“You don’t get to use it not because he’s my boyfriend, you don’t get to use it because I don’t know for sure if I want you back in my life!” Britta exclaimed.

Everyone in the room went still and silent. Each of Britta’s labored breaths seemed to echo throughout the space.

“I know that you just want to move on and pretend like nothing bad ever happened between us, and keep talking about nothing for the rest of dinner. But it did, and I deal with the consequences every single day. I want to talk about it.”

“What is there to talk about? You were our kid, you ran away, we kept up with you however we could, and now you’re back,” George said.

“What is there to talk about?!” Britta repeated, “Growing up here was like growing up in a prison! I was always under investigation, even if I’d done nothing wrong. You never trusted my word on anything! You had to have complete access to all of my belongings, you took the door off my room when you got the slightest whiff of rebellion, and you kept me grounded half the time over shit like not doing the dishes! It was to the point where I could only have a limited secret social life that _you_ manually approved!”

George scoffed. “Actions have consequences. Parents are allowed to punish their children.”

“And children are allowed to cut their parents out of their life if they don’t like the way they’ve been treated by them.”

“Hey, easy now, both of you,” Deb said sternly.

“Besides, you’re making it all sound worse than it was,” George grumbled.

“No, I’m not. I’m really not. You were able to wave away everything that you put me through, because you didn’t get trust issues and paranoia out of the whole thing. I did,” Britta insisted.

“Those sound like your problems, not ours.”

“That _you_ gave to me! I have a right to be upset that you’re incapable of acknowledging any fault here!”

“See, you just hit the nail on the head, Britta. We’re willing to move past everything, why aren’t you?” George said.

Britta’s jaw dropped as she struggled to think of how to even begin to respond to her father.

“I just said it, because _you_ hurt _me_! _Of course_ you can move past it, you’re not the ones who got fucked up and broken!”

“We got hurt too, Britta. The day you ran away…well, that was quite honestly the worst day of my life,” Deb countered.

“You really don’t get it, do you? The way you treated me _drove_ me to run away. I didn’t feel safe or protected or _happy_ in this house! And that’s all I wanted to be,” Britta said. She took a deep breath and planted herself firmly in her chair, signaling to Jeff that things were about to get real.

“You never believed me. About anything, my whole life. When I told you that I was depressed, you told me to buck up. When I told you that I was anxious, you told me to stop overthinking things. When I told you that the other kids weren’t being nice to me and that I had trouble making friends…you said that it was because I was too abrasive. Why would anyone ever want to be my friend? That’s what you asked me, dad.” Britta directed her cold gaze towards her father. “When I was 14 and came to you, miserable and desperate for a sign to keep going. And you know what? You gave me one. I wanted to spite you. I wanted to make so many friends and be so happy that you would never tell me to buck up ever again.”

“What, is that all I got? Just one chance?” George asked gruffly.

“No, dad. You got hundreds of chances. You both did. So many chances that I can’t count them all. Every time that you put me down or called me crazy or insulted me or screamed at me or made me feel unwelcome here, I gave you another chance. I made up excuses and stopped asking for apologies. _Until_ the day I ran away. Only once I was on my own did I stop giving you chances.”

Deb took a shaky breath, her hands trembling as she gripped the edge of the dining room table. “You know, it’s hard being a parent. You’re wrong, I _can_ admit fault. Everyone makes mistakes, and we made a lot of them, but you have to understand that we didn’t know the impact they would have and can’t remember every single one. You have to forgive us. We’re your parents, and we love you,” she said, her eyes visibly brimming with tears.

“I don’t _have_ to do anything. I don’t owe you anything,” Britta said coldly, “You know, these past two days have been some of the worst that I’ve had in a long, long time. And it’s because I couldn’t shake the feeling that your little spies were tracking my every move. That, and I was dreading coming here to see you again. But do you know who made me feel better?” She stopped to take a breath before answering her own question. “My real family. They make me feel loved. They make me feel like I don’t have to change myself to deserve love and like me just the way I am. Annie and Shirley are always only a text away, Abed will literally rearrange his day to make any one of us feel better, and now, all I have to do to get to Jeff is cross our living room!”

She stopped again to wipe away the stream of tears running down each of her cheeks. Before anyone else could say anything, she took another deep breath and continued.

“I always had to earn everything from you. Whether it was support or affection or the right to be treated like a human, I had to fight for it. And I’ve spent the past five years not having to fight for any of that anymore. I _never_ want to go back to feeling like I did while I was living under this roof.”

Her parents were stunned. Deb and George could only look up at her with open mouths, gaping like fish.

Jeff was similarly stunned, but not out of shock. More out of awe. He’d never heard Britta stand up for herself with that kind of ferocity.

“Honey, you didn’t have to fight for anything. I’m sorry you felt that way,” George said softly, “We only held you to such high standards because we saw greatness in you. And, truth be told, you could be a difficult child at times. Sometimes, we had to be tough, and I stand by that.”

“Did you ever consider the fact that maybe I was difficult because my emotional needs weren’t being met? Or did you think something like that would show up in the results of the drug test you forced me to take when I was 11?” Britta shot back.

“Britta…you have to understand, we’ve always loved you. You were my favorite person in the whole entire world,” Deb said tearfully.

Britta turned to give her mother an incredulous look. “I’m sorry, _what_? The fact that you even said that is insane! You constantly compared me to other people and made sure that I knew _exactly_ how much better than me everyone else was. I was your only daughter, but I had to fight to be your favorite! And, congratulations, you raised such a fucked up person that now I’m 34 years old and still no one’s favorite.”

“Still swearing at the dinner table, I see…” George grumbled.

“ _That’s_ what you’re worried about here?! Not the fact that your daughter is sitting right in front of you, asking for a reason why you deserve to be in her life after all of the shit that you put her through?”

“Britta…we only did the things that we did out of love,” Deb said.

“Is that so?” Britta asked, though it sounded more like she was pleading.

“Yes. And, like your father said, your problems aren’t our problems. We can’t do anything to fix them.”

Britta gasped. “What do you _mean_ it’s not your problem?! You _did_ those things to me! _You_ installed a security camera in my room, _you_ told me I wasn’t good enough, _you_ made me believe that I was some evil person that didn’t deserve your love! You know, I only started smoking because I knew you would think I was that whether I actually did or not, and that logic applies to literally everything you ever accused me of.”

Deb’s upper lip began to tremble. “We just wanted you to be the best version of yourself. Like I said, it’s possible that we went about it wrong, but we did what we had to do with a child of your…temperament.”

“I see,” Britta said, her tone cold and indifferent.

“And…we just want a clean slate on all sides. This is why we didn’t want to bring all of this up tonight,” Deb said, placing one hand face-up on the table towards Britta, “What do you say, sweetie?”

Britta squeezed Jeff’s hand before letting it go so that she could grip onto the edge of the table and rise from her seat.

“I say no.” She paused to see if anyone else would say something, but her parents only looked up at her with rapidly paling faces. “The best version of myself is clearly the one with my friends, my chosen family. The one without you. You don’t get to start over with me.”

“Oh, Britta, that can’t be true,” Deb murmured.

“You didn’t want me to be the best version of myself then, huh? You just wanted to control me again,” she replied with a dark laugh, “I wanted to see if you had grown, changed, maybe at least come to understand what you had done to hurt me. I wasn’t even seeking an outright apology, just a sign of growth. But you haven’t given me any yet, and I don’t want to waste any more time looking for one. Annie was right, no well-adjusted adult hires people to spy on their grown children.”

“But-”

“We’re done here. Thanks for dinner.”

She ignored her parents’ onslaught of protests as she pushed in her chair and began the march towards the front door. Jeff followed close behind, not exchanging another word with Deb or George before doing so.

He unlocked his car and they filed into it without exchanging a single word. For what felt like an eternity, neither one of them said anything, still processing the events that had just transpired.

“Well, that was one hell of a Winger speech,” Jeff said, being the first to break the silence.

Britta didn’t respond for a few moments, so he turned to look at her. He was alarmed to find that she was burying her head in her hands, her body being wracked with silent sobs.

“Hey, hey! It’s okay, it’s okay, we’re out of there.” He reached over the center console and timidly placed one hand on Britta’s arm, hoping that he could help soothe her.

“No, it’s not! I’m an idiot. I…I…” Britta hiccuped and curled further into a ball, sliding just out of Jeff’s reach.

“You’re not an idiot, I promise.”

“I thought that things might be different. Some stupid part of me actually believed that they could have changed. But they haven't, they're just better at hiding shit,” Britta said. She lifted her head and rested her chin on top of her knees, wrapping her arms around her legs to bring them closer to her chest.

“I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t fix anything, but I’m really, really sorry that didn’t go better.”

“It’s okay,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s not. And _that’s_ okay,” Jeff insisted.

Britta took a shaky breath, following it with an audible sob. “You know, it sounds idiotic, but deep down? I wanted them to be better. I wanted to be able to have them be back in my life. But I hate how they make me feel. I hate the person that I am when I’m with them.”

“I get it,” Jeff assured her, “I feel the same way about my dad.”

“Maybe we’re each other’s bad luck charms,” Britta mumbled as she rubbed at her eyes.

“I hope that’s not true.”

She blinked to clear her vision and looked over to see his eyes rapidly growing glassy.

“Only when it comes to parental reunions. I was with you to meet your dad, you were with me for this.”

Jeff seemed to relax with the clarification. “Oh, good. And I’ll get my mom to visit one day. She’s alright, so maybe we can break the pattern.”

Britta uncurled herself enough to properly look at Jeff. His smile was the gentlest and warmest one he could muster; gentle and warm enough that Britta felt compelled to launch herself across the console and into his arms.

“Thank you. For being here with me.”

“Of course. Like I said, I didn’t want you to have to do this alone.”

Britta let herself be held for a few more moments before she slunk back to her seat. For the most part, her tears had subsided, but she still returned to a more relaxed curled-up position.

“Okay. I’m good, you can go ahead and drive us home.”

Jeff gave her a skeptical look. “You sure?”

“I don’t know if there’s anything that could do much more to cheer me up right now,” Britta said, half-chuckling as she straightened herself out.

Instead of turning on the car right away, Jeff paused to think. After a moment of hemming, hawing, and drumming his fingers on the outside of the steering wheel, he had an idea.

“Do you want to know a secret?”

Britta narrowed her eyes and tilted her head to one side. “What kind of secret?”

“One that you can never tell any of our friends. Understood?”

“I guess?”

Jeff took a deep breath. “You know, you lied earlier when you said that you’re still no one’s favorite.”

“Where is this going?”

“If you stop asking questions, then maybe you’ll find out,” Jeff said with a laugh.

“Maybe you could answer one of them, then!” Britta exclaimed.

“Fine! The secret is that you’re my favorite. Out of the study group, out of the Save Greendale Committee, out of this whole goddamn city - you’re my favorite.”

Britta looked down at the floor of his Lexus. “I’m sure that’s not true. You’re just trying to make me feel better. I appreciate it, I really do, but-”

“No. Look at me, Britts.”

Reluctantly, she lifted her head and met Jeff’s gentle gaze.

“Who else do I sit around and watch movies with on the weekends? Who else do I talk to about shit that I usually try to keep buried? Who else has been my partner in crime as many times over as you have? Fuck, who else have I let _live with me_?” Jeff said, waving his hands around emphatically.

“Uh, Chang?” Britta replied.

“Alright, fair point. But I didn’t do all that other crap with him, promise. _You’re_ my favorite, because you’re the only one whose company I could bear for this long.”

“So I’m your favorite by default?”

Jeff rolled his eyes. “Sure, if that’s the only way you can accept it.”

Britta looked back down at the floor as she reached to tuck her hair behind her ears. A small smile spread across her face as she pretended to take immense interest in the carpet underneath her.

“Well, in that case, I suppose that I can accept the honor of being Jeffery Tobias Winger’s favorite,” she said, barely able to contain her growing smile.

He reached over to place a hand on top of hers. “I’m glad. It’s truly an extremely high honor, you should wear that badge with pride.” She scoffed, lifting her head enough to lock eyes with Jeff again.

“Um, for what it’s worth, I think that you might be my favorite, too.”

“I’m your favorite as well? That implies that I said that I was my own favorite.”

“Just take the compliment, jackass!”

“Now you know how I felt just a minute ago!”

Britta laughed, though it seemed to Jeff like the action came with a certain amount of pain for her.

“If you’re gonna get all technical on me, then fine. You’re my favorite, full stop.”

“What are we, British?” Jeff teased.

Britta sighed and sunk the slightest bit further into her seat. She didn’t say anything for a little while, clearly contemplating something serious.

“What’s the matter?”

“Do you think there’s something wrong with us?”

Jeff tilted his head in confusion. “Yes, obviously. But what makes you say that right now?”

“I don’t know, maybe just the fact that neither of us is comfortable with genuine emotion unless it’s wrapped in jokes or irony or some other shit,” she replied.

Jeff’s grip on Britta’s hand suddenly tightened.

“Hey, Britts?” he said. He thought that the words that he wanted to say next wouldn’t come easily. But, since the universe still seemed to have some twisted need to prove him wrong, they rolled right off of his tongue like he’d said them a million times.

“You’re my favorite, and I love you.”

Britta looked nothing if not startled. She opened her mouth and appeared to be trying to make her mouth form a reply, but no sound would escape her throat.

“You don’t have to say it back, that’s okay-”

“No. You’re my favorite, and I love you too.”

She wrapped her hand around Jeff’s and let both of them sit in the words that they had just exchanged. It didn’t feel as though anything more needed to be said, or that anything was wrong with the world at all.

“So…you still want frozen yogurt?” Jeff asked after a moment of silence had passed.

Britta nodded. “Yeah. I think it might help to eat some feelings before going to bed.”

“Agreed. Yogurt Mountain or TCBY? I’m not going to our usual place in the mall at this time of night.”

“Yogurt Mountain. I…kind of might be banned for life from any and all TCBY’s across the country.”

Jeff did his best to stifle a laugh. “You’ll have to tell me why on the way there.”

“No, I don’t. When you earn that story, I’ll tell it.”

He started the car and wasted no time before hitting the gas and pulling away from the house. Britta turned to look at it one last time, finding herself being hit with the realization that it could be the last time she ever laid eyes on her childhood home. She expected to sit with that sorrow for a while, but as it turned out, it’s hard to stay sad when Jeff Winger turns on the radio and starts singing along to Taylor Swift.

“It’s new, the shape of your body, it’s blue,” he began to mumble with Taylor. Britta barely even registered the laugh that escaped her.

“What, too soon?” he asked, appearing to be genuinely concerned.

“No,” Britta said, drawing up the corners of her mouth into a genuine smile, “It’s perfect.”

She joined him just in time for the bridge, giving him the confidence to sing as close to full voice as she had ever heard him. Britta briefly thought to question how he knew all of the lyrics, but the motivation to do so escaped her the minute they yelled _“I love you, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard!”_ together.

And even though, on a fundamental level, nothing had changed - Britta couldn’t shake the feeling that everything had.

 _“This is new,”_ she thought as Jeff rolled down the windows so that the wind could run through their hair and they could yell out to the night sky, _“It’s new, and I think I want this feeling to last forever.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) I've wanted to write this scene for almost a year and I'm very happy that I finally found a way to do so. I hope that you all liked it and that it was an alright fix-it for 06x02!
> 
> 2) I am aware that Cruel Summer came out in 2019 and the last season of Community takes place in 2015. I don't care, it's Their Song and I make the rules here.
> 
> as always, please leave any thoughts/opinions/feedback/etc. in the comments!! thank you so much to every reader for supporting me on this journey so far, it's wild to me that I've maintained the motivation to write this story. it's the longest single project I've ever written and I'm nowhere near the end of the story that I want to tell!! the next several chapters are plotted out, but it might be longer between updates from now on. again, just a big thanks to everyone who's read and left kudos and commented. hope you all are doing well and have a great day!!


	7. Unexpected Crisis Management

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group catches wind of City College's plan to air an attack ad against Greendale while Jeff and Britta try to confront their feelings.

After a rather uneventful Tuesday night, Britta was closing up The Vatican in the early hours of the morning. Everything was going fairly normally until her phone chimed, alerting her of a text from Jeff.

_Hey, we’re having an emergency meeting in the study room. You almost done with your shift?_

Receiving the text didn’t surprise her much, as they were all well overdue for some classic Greendale chaos. It had been far too long since something had gone disastrously, horribly wrong.

_yeah, almost done closing. do you think I really need to come?_

_If you want to. Not quite sure what’s up yet, I’m still in the parking lot._

_cool. I’ll join you asap._

_Great. Drive safe._

Britta sighed as she slid her phone back into her pocket and loaded the last of the greasy plates into the dishwasher.

 _“I’ve already been up for almost twenty hours, what’s a few more if it’s for Greendale?”_ she thought as she slammed the dishwasher shut.

There had been a lot of days like this lately. Britta was growing accustomed to getting only a few hours of sleep each night, sneaking in 20 minute naps and pots of coffee wherever else she could. She’d been working so much that she’d actually been able to give Jeff her first official rent payment, which he’d frustratingly refused to accept before verifying that she had more money in her bank account.

With everything finally in order, she collected her bag from underneath the bar and fished out her ring of keys so that she could lock up on her way out.

 _“This better be a quick emergency,”_ Britta thought as she practically dragged herself over to where her car was parked, _“I really,_ really _need a nap.”_

\---

Jeff really should have been more surprised that Greendale might have given a degree to a dog.

When Abed had shown them City College’s attack ad, all he could do was roll his eyes and say _“of course”_ because what else was there to say? He worked for a school that had given a bachelor’s degree to a dog, and somehow, that wasn’t the strangest fact about his life.

The study room was quickly transformed into a proper situation room, outfitted with whiteboards, laptops, globes, clocks, and a cork board for Chang to wind red string around. After doing a quick survey of the room, Jeff knew that he had to be the one to come up with the infallible plan for refuting City College’s claim. However, he was a little preoccupied at the moment, glancing at the front door every five seconds to see if Britta had arrived yet.

“Dean Pelton, did Greendale Community College give a degree to a dog?” he heard Frankie ask.

“I seem to recall…no. No way. There’s absolutely no way. Not _that_ dog,” the Dean responded.

“Christ…” Jeff grumbled, whipping out his phone and deciding that the best strategy would be to remain as uninvolved as possible.

“You remember the dog,” Frankie said hopefully, “Was it enrolled in classes?”

The Dean took far too long to answer, prompting a now perturbed Annie to interject.

“How are these hard questions?!”

“Why are these the questions you guys are asking?” Jeff said, the words leaving his mouth before he could rein them in.

_“Fuck. I guess I’m getting involved now.”_

“You don’t want to know if a dog got a degree here?” Frankie asked incredulously.

“It’s not important,” Jeff said with a shrug. He turned off his phone and set it down on the table before pushing his seat back and standing up. “I’m a former lawyer, Frankie. We work off of evidence. So the real question is, did the dog get a degree here in any way that can be proven?”

“Ooo, I like that, Jeffery,” the Dean said, pointing in his direction and nodding vigorously.

“I don’t like that! I like the truth. Play lawyer on your own time, Jeff,” Annie groused.

“This is my own time! This is all of our own time! We have three hours before the ad airs to defend this place, so we don’t have time to waste on finding the truth. All we need is to prove that City College isn’t being 100% honest, and then we can be on our merry way back to bed,” Jeff insisted, taking a few steps closer to her.

“Hey, guys! What’s the emergency?” Britta asked, stumbling through the front doors of the study room towards Jeff. She stopped right beside him and clung onto his arm, seemingly in order to maintain her balance.

“City College is going to be running an attack ad against Greendale tomorrow morning. They’re claiming that we gave a degree to a dog,” Jeff quickly explained as he moved to wrap one arm around her and keep her upright.

“Well, did we?”

Jeff tried to ignore the smug smiles that both Annie and Frankie gave him before he answered.

“We’re not sure. But we don’t need to be. We just need to prove that the ad is libel and can’t be broadcast on TV.”

“It’s only libel if City College can’t prove their claim,” Frankie insisted, “That’s precisely why the truth _does_ matter.”

“I found the dog!” Elroy exclaimed, turning the group’s attention away from each other and towards him. They moved to crowd around him, Jeff setting Britta down on the table before taking the dog’s registration papers from Elroy.

“It says she’s registered as a border terrier,” he announced.

“They said Steffordshire in the commercial,” Abed noted.

“Isn’t that something? Maybe…maybe there’s a new angle here,” Jeff mused, “We’ve known this animal thirty seconds and she’s already unreliable. I mean, who _is_ the real Ruffles?”

“Isn’t that going a bit too far? I mean, she’s just a dog, right?” Britta said. She was currently trying to arrange herself comfortably on the table, tucking herself into a ball and using her wadded up cardigan as a pillow. Under different circumstances, Jeff probably would have lifted her up and carried her to the couch so that she could rest her head on his lap and sleep for a little while. But right now, he had a dog to discredit and a school to defend.

“Britta’s right. Our strategy is to go after the _dog_?!” Frankie exclaimed.

“Our strategy is denial, which can include discrediting the source. Abed, can you make one of those attack ads? As a back-up plan?” Jeff requested.

“I’m already on it,” he replied with a nod.

“Everyone else, try to dig up more information about this Ruffles. If we can use it to stop City College’s ad from airing or put it in ours, bring it to me or Abed. If we can’t, don’t.”

“If we do this, then we’re no better than City College,” Annie protested.

“It’s not looking like we’re _much_ better than City College, we gave a degree to a dog!” Jeff yelled.

Britta sat up enough to reach over to him and half-heartedly stroke his arm. “Easy now, no need to get riled up.”

“I’m sorry, Britta, but someone has to be! We can’t let City College ruin our reputation with this!”

Annie’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me, since when do you care about Greendale’s reputation?”

“Since they started cutting me a paycheck. Now, are we going to prove them wrong and defend our school or are we going to go home and let the ad air without a fight?” Jeff asked.

“ _I’m_ going to go check the school records. To see for sure if…you know, we gave a degree to a dog,” Frankie said, already sounding defeated. She turned to head out the back door, Annie close on her heel.

“That’s great, go find your truth. If it helps our cause, bring it back. If not, you know…stuff gets lost.”

“No! We _are_ better than City College, we always have been. You have to know that, since you’re trying so hard to defend this place. You’re just…doing it wrong! We’re not going to lie!” Annie exclaimed, pointing angrily at Jeff.

“It’s not a lie if it’s only by omission.”

“Yup, not like ‘lying by omission’ is a well-known idiom or anything…” Elroy mumbled from across the room.

Annie rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I know that we did not give a degree to a dog, because I have faith in my school!”

“I lost that a long time ago,” Britta muttered as the other two women exited the study room.

Jeff turned his attention back to her, seeing that she was now sprawled out across half of the table. He stepped closer to her and reached out to smooth some of her stray hairs back into place, his thumb lingering on her temple as he did so.

“Hey, Elroy has his RV parked out front. Why don’t you two go make some coffee, drink all of it, make some more, and bring that back for the rest of us?” he suggested.

“You know what, that sounds like a great idea,” she readily agreed.

“Thanks for volunteering my RV,” Elroy grumbled, “but also, thanks for the break from all of this nonsense.”

Jeff gave him a nod as he helped Britta up from the table. “You’re welcome. You might want to help her walk over there, she’s been on her feet all day.”

“I’ve got it, Winger. Your girlfriend’s safe with me.”

“She’s not my-”

“Whatever, don’t care. We’ll come back when she’s had enough coffee,” Elroy said.

“I don’t know if I can _ever_ have enough, though,” Britta interjected as Elroy moved to steady her on their way out of the study room.

Once Jeff ensured that the pair was safely outside and entering the RV, he returned his attention to the sprawl of whiteboards in front of him.

_“Alright, Ruffles. Let’s make a fool out of you so you don’t make a fool out of my school.”_

\---

After setting Britta down at his kitchen table, Elroy had quickly gotten to making up a pot of coffee and finding the biggest mug in his cabinet.

“Do you want anything in it? Cream? Sugar?” he asked as he poured what looked like half of the pot into the mug.

“Both please,” Britta squeaked.

Elroy nodded, moving to his fridge to get out a carton of half-and-half. Britta could barely keep her head up off of the table as he added both to the coffee and brought it over.

“Drink up. Winger won’t be happy with me if you return just as tired as you left,” he ordered.

“Thanks, Elroy,” she said as she lifted the mug and swiftly brought it to her lips. Britta thought that there might have been the smallest smile on his face, but she couldn’t know for sure if her sleep deprived brain was only making it up.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, moving to take a swig from his own mug.

They sat in silence for a few moments while Britta gulped down as much of the drink as possible, craving the caffeine high that she knew would come with it.

“So…” Elroy said, being the first to break the silence, “Winger really _isn’t_ your boyfriend?”

“No!” Britta exclaimed, practically slamming her mug down on Elroy’s table, “Everyone thinks that, and I don’t know why.”

“You’re sure there’s nothing romantic about your relationship?”

“Not currently, no. Not really ever, I guess. We’ve gotten engaged a couple of times, but it didn’t mean anything.”

Elroy shook his head. “You people…”

“What do you mean _you people_?”

“It’s like you all live by an entirely different set of rules. One that no other known civilizations use,” he elaborated, shaking his head the whole time.

Britta rolled her eyes. “Whatever, we’re not _that_ weird.”

“Brittany.”

“It’s Britta.”

“We’re currently trying to disprove an attack ad against your school claiming that a dog once got a degree here, and we’re not entirely sure that claim is false. You people are _weird_.”

She could only purse her lips and look down at the tabletop, partially out of shame, and partially because she didn’t know what else to do. Elroy wasn’t wrong. Not about them being weird, at least. But he _had_ to be wrong about her and Jeff, just like everyone else was.

“Sure, I’ll admit that. But it’s Greendale that made us this way!”

“You’re not doing a great job of convincing me to stay enrolled here,” Elroy said.

Britta snickered and looked back up at him, now confident that he was actually smiling at her. “Good thing that wasn’t my goal.”

He gave a short laugh before taking another sip from his mug. “Fair enough.”

She looked down at the tabletop, her eyes lighting up when they landed on a haphazardly stacked pile of CD’s.

“Wait, Natalie is Freezing?!” she asked, reaching for the CD on the top of the stack.

“You know them?”

“Yeah, of course I know them! They were only the most important little known pop-punk band of the 90’s! But how do you? You’re-”

“Black?”

“No! Old. I’m sorry, I just meant that…when I was listening to them, I was like, 15,” Britta hastily explained.

“I was like, 40,” Elroy said, “I never really listened to music when I was growing up, I was in my own world. But one day at work, I heard this sound. It was ‘Pillar of Garbage’.”

Britta gasped. “Oh, that is their _best_ song.”

“Do you think listening to it would help wake you up?”

She nodded eagerly, prompting Elroy to take the disc out of its case and place it in his nearby CD player. Scientifically speaking, Britta knew the song couldn’t _actually_ do anything to wake her up and make her more alert. But spiritually speaking? She’d known it to work wonders.

The intro crescendoed, the tambourine kicked in, and Britta already felt better.

“Moonlight, bleeding glass and healing needles, amputated hearts are never whole,” she began to softly sing along. Her eyes fluttered closed, so she couldn’t see Elroy, but she swore that she heard his deeper voice join hers on the next line.

“Too bright, dreaming as the screaming seagulls feed on parts of me I keep below. Orion, take off your belt, let me go to where you’ve been. I’m flying, overhead, buffalos are falling dead inside the-”

Unexpectedly, the music cut out. Britta stopped singing and whipped around to see Elroy smacking the top of the CD player.

“Goddammit! This CD is so old, I always forget how scratched up it is,” he exclaimed. After another solid hit to the player, the music resumed. However, they both quickly realized that it had begun playing a different song entirely.

“Aw, that’s okay,” Britta assured him, “I’m just happy to have met someone who shares my appreciation for the group. I mean, Jeff helped me hang up a Natalie is Freezing poster, but he had no idea who they were! Can you believe it?”

“Yes, I can believe it. Winger seems like the kind of person who would see himself as being above that sort of music.”

Britta laughed. “You know, I think you’re right on the money with that one.”

Elroy flashed her a smile before lifting up his coffee mug to tip the rest of its contents into his mouth. “Well…we should probably make another pot to bring to the others. Are you feeling any better?”

“A little. Thanks for letting me hang out in here for a second and drink your coffee.”

“Of course. Don’t tell the others, but you’re welcome here anytime you want to do this again. Maybe I’ll burn a new CD so we can listen to all of ‘Pillar of Garbage’ next time.” Elroy patted her once on the arm before standing up to bring their empty mugs to his sink and set about brewing another pot of coffee.

Britta smiled, feeling a warm sort of contentment wash over her. “That sounds great. And I promise, I won’t tell.”

\---

After about half an hour, all Jeff and Abed had scrounged up was a measly pile of unsubstantiated claims that Abed was stitching together into a thirty second ad.

“Do you _really_ think that Ruffles has 30 puppies? Do we even have proof of _one_?” he asked.

“We don’t need proof that she has 30 puppies, we just need to make sure that there’s no proof out there to say that she _doesn’t_ have 30 puppies,” Jeff replied gruffly. He returned to the webpage he’d been pouring over; a database of dog show winners from the Greendale area. If Ruffles wasn’t on the list, he figured that could be another mark against her ‘good girl’ status.

Abed stopped typing and looked up from his computer. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen you back in lawyer mode like this. Why now? Why about this attack ad?”

“Because! Everyone outside of Greendale already thinks we’re a laughingstock, we can’t let City College give them any more ammunition,” Jeff said.

“That’s precisely why this shouldn’t matter as much as you all think it does. Everyone already thinks we’re a laughingstock, so how is airing a counter-attack or preventing City College’s from airing going to change that?”

“I thought you were on board with the plan.”

“I am. But mostly because I haven’t had an excuse to experiment with the attack ad medium before,” Abed explained, “So why are _you_ fighting so hard for this school’s already measly reputation?”

Jeff sighed, moving to rub his temples. “I don’t know, I think I’m just trying to make up for the beginning of this school year, when I gave up on this place. And…it feels like we’re on the brink of something, you know? Enrollment is up, this place is looking better than it ever has…sure, we’re all trapped here, but has that been so bad? Even this year, with just the four of us left…it’s still been nice. And we wouldn’t have any of it if it weren’t for Greendale.”

“On a superficial level, yes, everything is perfectly fine,” Abed said, “But…never mind.”

“No, I want to hear it. What were you going to say?”

“I don’t think you’re ready to hear it. I don’t think I’m ready to say it.”

“Oh. Okay.”

The two men sat in silence for a moment. Jeff briefly returned to his search of the dog show database, but quickly popped his head back up to look at Abed.

“Um, this is a little out of nowhere, but do you remember how you said that I had to let this season play out? Figure out my feelings for Britta?”

“I do.”

“Yeah, well, I finally figured it out,” Jeff said, “I love her. Like, an embarrassing amount. But not as anything more than a friend. We said it to each other after meeting her parents.”

Abed nodded. “That’s good. I’m glad that you figured it out and could be honest with each other. And now, we can officially put the will-they-won’t-they to rest.”

Jeff nodded back. “Yeah. I thought you would be happy to hear that we resolved that plot line.”

The thinnest smile spread across Abed’s face. “I am. I’m also happy to hear you using TV talk after how much you’ve fought against it.”

Jeff shrugged. “Whatever. It felt like it fit here.”

Abed returned to his computer with a renewed frenzy, hitting several keys before beckoning for Jeff to come over to his side of the table. He was about to press play on the video when Elroy and Britta strolled in through the door, the inventor proudly carrying a tray of coffee cups.

“We brought coffee! Is there anything else we can do to help? Preferably something that doesn’t involve making up lies about a dog,” Elroy said.

“We could use some more eyes on this cut,” Abed replied. He waved Britta and Elroy over, prompting them to set down the coffee and join him and Jeff in gathering around the computer. Abed started the ad as Britta leaned over onto Jeff’s shoulder, causing his attention to momentarily be pulled away from the matter at hand.

 _“She’s been this tired every time I’ve seen her in the past week. Whenever I_ have _seen her,”_ Jeff thought as she shifted to have him support more of her weight, _“I guess she’s been working herself to the bone ever since…oh.”_

He barely registered most of the ad, becoming more concerned with the current state of his roommate. Should he try talking to her about it? Or would she just deny that anything was wrong at all? And what if-

“I originally wanted the voice-over to be a James Earl Jones impersonator, but the James Spader impersonator turned out pretty good,” Abed remarked as the ad finished playing.

“You really let that dog have it,” Elroy muttered.

“Mhm. Isn’t this…I don’t know, a little silly? I mean, maybe Annie’s right. Maybe this _isn’t_ the right way to go about this,” Britta said.

“This is our back-up plan. Hopefully, Annie and Frankie will return with proof that we can use to get City College’s ad pulled off the air,” Jeff assured her.

Before anyone could say anything else, the Dean came in through the back door, carrying a tray that held five large cans of olives.

“Oh, Dean! I didn’t even notice you’d left. Can you…what are those for?” Abed asked.

The Dean set them down on the table beside him and looked up at Jeff. “They’re for Jeffrey.”

“Why?”

“Nothing.”

“Five huge cans of olives aren’t nothing,” Jeff retorted.

“It’s just something I felt like doing,” the Dean replied with a shrug.

Jeff narrowed his eyes at the other man. “This isn’t the first time you’ve done this. I’m really confused by this, is it code for something?!”

The Dean gazed at him wistfully for a moment before answering. “I don’t know. And I don’t care.”

As he walked away, Jeff shook his head in an attempt to clear it. He couldn’t be worrying about the Dean and his olives when there were much more important things to be worried about. Like Ruffles and City College and Britta.

“Jackpot, relative to Greendale.”

They all turned to see Frankie and Annie re-enter the room, the older woman triumphantly holding up a file folder. She handed it over to Jeff, who immediately flipped it open and began to scan the document inside.

At first, he didn’t see what she was so pleased about. “Oh my god. Look at this course load, this dog was an animal,” he muttered, somewhat in amazement.

“Most of them were attendance based,” Frankie explained.

“How is this good news?!”

Frankie pulled the file towards and pointed at one line printed near the top.

“Unpaid library fees, $15. Diploma withheld until payment remitted,” he read aloud, looking back up with a broad smile, “No degree. The commercial’s a lie.”

“Does this mean we don’t have to air the dumb attack on Ruffles?” Britta asked.

“Yes! I’m gonna call the station and have them pull City College’s ad,” Frankie said, running over to find her phone.

“Eat crap Ruffles, and not just your own!” Jeff exclaimed, getting caught up in the moment.

“Well, that’s a little harsh,” Britta grumbled.

“You guys! Let it go.”

They now shifted their attention over to Annie, who was looking more tortured than ever.

“What are you talking about?” Jeff asked.

“The sad truth is that a dog _can_ get a degree here,” she said.

“Yeah, but the happy truth is that none did.”

“There’s a difference between truth and honesty. Library dues? Who cares! Ruffles put the work in, relative to Greendale. That City College ad may technically be a lie, but it’s really dishonest to kill it on a technicality.”

“Oh, so we care about honesty now?” Jeff asked.

“Yes! Especially since we were going to drag this dog’s name through the mud. That’s more than dishonest, that’s evil,” Annie said.

“Evil?” Frankie questioned, “I’ll cop to silly.”

“Some things are silly _and_ evil, like candy cigarettes,” Elroy said, “and remember when Flava Flav had that reality show?”

“I don’t own a TV,” Frankie said. Elroy and Abed both stopped what they were doing to stare at her in disbelief.

“Honestly, I think the most honest thing we can do right now, the only thing that will make us better than City College, is to let that ad run and take our lumps,” Annie said.

“We’re already better than City College, you said it yourself earlier! And what’s the point of all of our work and misery if we end up accomplishing nothing? Then this whole night will just be like a German art film,” Jeff replied. Clear determination flashed in Annie’s eyes right before she reached out and grabbed one side of the file that Jeff was holding.

“What? Let it go!”

“I am a female student being physically overpowered by a male teacher!” she exclaimed. Jeff’s hands instantly flew away from the file.

“Damn it! Britta, get her,” Jeff directed.

“I think I’d rather sit this one out. I don’t know how much longer I can stay on my feet,” she said, flopping down onto one of the study room couches for emphasis.

“Frankie, get her.”

The administrative consultant took a step towards the brunette. “Annie, sweetie, think about this practically. If being better than City College means letting them destroy us, what is the point?”

“If surviving means being like them, what’s the point?” Annie countered, “Why not let one school die and enroll at the one where my grades matter!?”

The room fell silent at her outburst.

A dam in Jeff’s mind broke. _“She’s not…no way. There’s no way she’d leave. She can’t leave. No one else can leave.”_

“If those are your terms…if the price of that transcript is you transferring…” Frankie broke silence before trailing off to leave space for more, “then we accept. Personally, I hope you’re bluffing.”

Annie took a look around the room, glancing over each of her friends. After completing her scan of the area, she thrust the file back towards Frankie.

“Yeah? Well, here’s what hope gets you,” she said curtly, “Hope and a dollar forty-nine will get you a candy bar.”

“A buck seventy-nine,” Abed interjected.

“Are you serious? Jesus,” she scoffed. “Well, have fun with your lying, cheating, dog-smearing, truth-blurring school!”

With that, Annie turned and ran out of the study room, out of the library, and out into the street in front of it.

 _“She’s bluffing. No one else is leaving. No one else is ever leaving,”_ Jeff began to assure himself. The group all couldn’t tear their eyes away from the direction she’d run off in.

“I remember when candy bars were 50 cents,” Elroy said, “If someone said ‘hey, I just joined Mensa’ or ‘I consider myself a post-modern this-or-that’ then you could say ‘yeah, that and 50 cents will get you a candy bar’ or ‘that and a quarter will get you a phone call.’ It was easier to be unimpressed back then. I mean, it was literally cheaper.” He looked around the room, seemingly surprised that no one was laughing at his joke.

“Elroy, we’re kind of bummed out right now. Annie just left,” Jeff said.

“Oh. I’m…sorry?”

“So, what do we do now?” Britta asked.

Frankie looked down at the file in her hand. “I don’t think we should call the station.”

“What?! You’re on Annie’s team now that she left?” Jeff asked incredulously.

“I don’t know, maybe! Maybe there’s another way to handle this that mitigates the situation without pulling City College’s ad _or_ airing an attack on Ruffles.”

“What other options are there?”

“What if we got ahead of the attack ad?” Britta said from where she was lying on the couch.

Jeff turned and stepped closer to her. “What do you mean?”

“You know, what if we created our own ad to run before City College’s, one where we just own up to the mistake. Say we’re working on it,” she elaborated.

The room took a moment to think, possibilities forming in each of their heads.

“That could work. It would show that we’re honest, capable of admitting fault, and actively working to better ourselves,” Abed noted.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea, Britta,” Frankie said.

She smiled lazily. “Thanks. I have those sometimes.”

“I’d argue rarely,” Jeff said, a hint of playfulness coming back into his voice. Britta frowned and stuck her tongue out at him as she sat up on the couch.

“Great. So we have…approximately an hour to write and film something. Do you think we can do it?” Frankie asked.

“I was _born_ to do this,” Abed said, cracking his knuckles, “Jeff, I’ll need you to help with the script. Dean, go clean all of the dalmatian paraphernalia out of your office.”

“But-”

“Do it. Frankie, try to track down a dog that looks like Ruffles. That’ll be the most dishonest thing about this, but having a dog on screen never hurt anyone.”

“Where am I going to do that at this hour?” Frankie asked.

“Oh, there’s some who live in the dumpster behind the cafeteria!” Britta said, sounding far too cheerful.

Frankie wrinkled her nose. “Alright. I guess I’ll…go get one of those.”

“Great. Let’s all plan to meet back in the Dean’s office in a cool thirty,” Abed instructed.

“What about me?” Britta asked.

“Britta, you sleep. You pulled your weight already by giving us this idea.”

Jeff looked at her long enough to see her give a contented smile and settle back down onto the throw pillows, wasting no time before curling up around one of them.

“Alright, Jeff. How do we make this sound convincing?” Abed asked, making him pivot his attention away from Britta.

“Well, I’ve got some ideas…”

\---

About an hour later, their optimistic counter-attack ad had been submitted to the TV station, and everyone was happily on their way home. Despite Britta’s protests, Jeff had insisted that she ride with him and that they leave her car at the school overnight.

“I hope Annie likes the new ad,” Jeff remarked as they were getting close to their apartment building, “and I hope she doesn’t…you know…”

“Can we not talk about this right now? I’m a little too tired for all this heavy shit,” Britta snapped.

“Of course. Sorry.”

Both of them fell silent for a moment before Jeff realized that he had a perfect window of opportunity.

“Speaking of which…don’t you think that you’ve been working a little too much?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on, Britts. I’ve barely seen you all week, and every time I do see you, you’re this exhausted,” Jeff said.

Britta shrugged. “I just started picking up more shifts. Some of us have to hustle in order to get anywhere.”

“Yeah, but there’s a difference between hustling and over-working. You’re going to burn yourself out before you know it.”

“Whatever, why do you care?”

“Why do I care? Because I care about you, dummy! And because it seems like this only started after our dinner with your parents!”

Jeff winced right as the words left his mouth. He snuck a glance over at Britta to see that she’d firmly locked her gaze on the road in front of them.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up now. That’s on me,” he added softly.

“I promise, I’m fine, Jeff. You don’t have to worry about me like I’m your girlfriend or something,” Britta said, voice full of venom.

He wanted to say something to counter her point, but couldn’t think of anything, so he didn’t. They rode the rest of the way home in a silent car, not breaking the silence when they got back to their apartment. Once inside, they each disappeared into their own rooms without so much as a ‘good night.’

\---

If it weren’t for the fact that she’d left her car at Greendale, Britta would have wanted to drive separately in order to avoid having to be in close quarters with Jeff. However, upon realizing her predicament, she quickly decided to break the silence from the previous night when they bumped into each other in the kitchen.

“G’morning.”

“Hey. How’s…things?”

Britta snorted. “Relax, Winger. I’m not mad at you.”

“Oh, really? The silent treatment you were giving me kind of made it seem like you were,” he said.

“Do you _want_ me to go back to not talking to you?”

“No. I just…I’m sorry for bringing up your parents last night, I really am. But I just don’t understand why you were so pissed off that I dared to care a little bit about you,” Jeff replied.

Britta sighed as he stepped away from the machine so that she could make her own coffee. “It wasn’t just that you cared about me, it’s that it felt like you were trying to coddle me. I’ve been on my own for a long time, Jeff. I don’t need someone like you trying to regulate my coping mechanisms.”

He took a slow sip of his espresso. “Okay. So you want me to not say _anything_ about-”

“Yes.”

“Okay. I won’t. Just…promise that you’ll let me know if shit gets worse. Or, hell, let _someone_ know, it doesn’t have to be me. I just don’t like the idea of you carrying all of this on your own.”

Britta removed her cup from the machine and looked up to stare him down. “Like I said, I was on my own for a long time. But…sure. I promise.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, can we talk about something else? Like, I don’t know…that one video of a raccoon helping a squirrel cross the road that went viral yesterday?” Britta requested.

Jeff smiled down at his mug. “Yeah. Of course we can. I can’t believe that squirrels are so stupid that they make raccoons look smart.”

“Hey, watch it! Raccoons are very intelligent creatures! I’ve always sort of wanted one,” Britta said indignantly.

“Then can I make one thing clear real quick?”

“Sure?”

“You can’t get one while we’re living under the same roof.”

She laughed, happy to have returned to their usual easy rapport. “That’s entirely fair. I’ll wait until I’ve saved up enough to move out.”

Jeff snickered. “That’s right, remember how you were only going to stay here until you got back on your feet?”

Britta shrugged. “What can I say, I guess I sort of made myself at home here.”

“That you did, didn’t you?”

\---

When Jeff and Britta arrived at Greendale, they found the Dean, Elroy, and Frankie packing up all of their situation room trappings from the previous night.

“Oh, I’m glad you two are here. Abed texted that him and Annie are on their way. Hopefully, she’s coming to tell us that she decided not to transfer,” Frankie said.

“Yeah. Hopefully,” Britta echoed. She joined the other woman in wiping down the chalkboards and whiteboards from the previous night, though she couldn’t help reading what Jeff and Abed had written on them as she did so.

“Ruffles advocated for the death of all squirrels?! Jesus, Jeff, you guys got in way too deep,” she remarked, shaking her head.

“Yeah…I’ll admit, that wasn’t my proudest moment,” he said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

“Lawyers,” Frankie muttered, softly enough that only Britta could hear. She stifled a laugh at the remark, to which Frankie responded with a sideways smile.

“You guys!”

The group pivoted to see a joyful Annie standing in the doorway, Abed standing close behind her.

“Abed had me watch the new ad, and I’m so proud! I knew you wouldn’t do that to Ruffles,” she squealed.

“You hoped!” Frankie said with an enthusiastic point.

“I hoped, and it worked!”

“Hope…point.”

Annie grinned. “Yes! Hope point!”

“You do understand that what we did was the most prudent tactical move, right? Getting in front of the scandal, Letterman style,” Jeff said.

“Yeah, but I came up with the idea, and I cared about how Annie felt!” Britta interjected. Jeff rolled his eyes as he watched Annie spring over to Britta and throw her arms around his roommate.

“Thank you, Britta. And don’t worry, Jeff, I promise I’ll never mistake you for having a heart,” Annie said snarkily.

“Thank you,” he said with a smirk. Frankie stepped over to embrace both Annie and Britta, looking down at the study room table as she did so. Her brow furrowed with concern as she laid eyes on a particularly confusing set of items.

“Say, why are these five cans of olives here? I mean, everything was a little frivolous, but these? Does anyone here even _like_ olives that much?” she asked, tilting her head towards the tray that the Dean had brought in the night before.

“I don’t know…” the Dean hummed.

Now that all of the more pressing matters had been tended to, Jeff was able to turn his full attention back to the mystery of Craig and his olives.

“C’mon, Dean. Spit it out. Why do you keep bringing me cans of olives?”

He gasped. “Is this an invitation to reveal your big secret?”

Jeff narrowed his eyes and tried to ignore the way that Britta was glaring at him, seemingly out of a mix of shock and…was that jealousy?

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You know…that second secret number that you have? The one that you text me nice things from? The one you told me never to tell anyone else about?”

“I only have one number, and you have it! What do you _mean_ second secret number?”

The Dean shrugged. “I got a text from it one day and responded by asking if it was your secret one. You said yes.”

Jeff sighed. “Dean, that’s clearly someone either messing with you or trying to scam you. Why wouldn’t you just ask me about it in person? Or text my actual real number to confirm it?” he asked, genuinely perplexed.

“You told me not to ever bring it up outside of those conversations,” the Dean explained casually.

“You do realize how that’s evidence to support the fact that the number is not actually owned by me, right?”

The Dean took a moment to think, a moment during which most of the other group members couldn’t help but snicker to themselves.

“Whatever. You kept telling me that you wanted me to bring you olives, even if you would refuse them in person. So I kept bringing them.”

“...but that wasn’t me. You understand that now, yes?”

“I don’t know, do I?”

Britta waved to get Jeff’s attention, mouthing _“just let him have this one”_ when he looked over at her. He decided that she was right - it would simply take too much energy to keep arguing this point - and simply nodded at the Dean.

“Alright. Just promise that you won’t bring me any more cans of olives,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Oh, I promise,” the Dean replied with an over-the-top wink.

Jeff sighed, knowing that he had definitively lost this battle. “Great. I’m glad to hear that.”

\---

As he was heading to teach his first class of the morning, Jeff spied Annie sitting alone on the library steps. He decided that a detour was in order, and sprinted over to join her.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Jeff.”

“Look, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry about how I acted last night. I got a little caught up in the moment and in defending Greendale,” he said.

Annie’s face betrayed her surprise at his admission. “Oh! Um, thank you. Sorry, I just…didn’t expect that apology from you. Wait, that sounded mean. I didn’t mean that- you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do. I’m not usually the apologizing type. It’s easy when you don’t have a heart,” Jeff joked.

“I suppose it would be, wouldn’t it?” A small smile was tugging up the corners of Annie’s mouth as she looked over at him. “ _I’m_ sorry that I overreacted yesterday. I should have just let you guys pull the ad and never threatened to transfer, but…I don’t know, I guess I was just so disappointed to learn that my school came that close to giving a degree to _a dog_. It kind of devalued all the work I’ve put in over the last six years, you know?”

Jeff nodded. “I get what you mean. Imagine how it feels being employed here. It's why I was so eager to prevent City College’s ad from airing, or at least wanted to get our word in first. No matter how many dogs I had to hurt in the process.”

“Understandable.”

“Honestly, I’m just really glad that you aren’t transferring. We’re lucky that we have you around to be our moral compass. I have no idea what kind of shit we’d pull if the rest of us were left to our own devices,” Jeff said.

Annie’s smile broadened. “Thanks, Jeff. For what it’s worth, sometimes we need a lawyer like you to make the hard decisions and negotiate our way out of things. And I think you know you’re so much more than that now.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty great, aren’t I?” he said sarcastically. Annie snorted, lightly shoving him away from her.

“Um, kind of off topic, but there’s one thing I wanted to ask,” Jeff said, deciding to pose the question while he had a moment alone with Annie.

“Sure, what is it?”

“Have you talked to Britta at all lately?”

Annie shook her head. “No, not lately. Not really since our trip to the mall. I tried to see if she wanted to hang out again, but she was working basically this whole week.”

“Cool. I just…I think she might need to spend time with someone that’s not me. And someone else to make sure that she’s doing okay,” Jeff explained.

“Oh that’s right, you guys went to dinner with her parents last week! How did that go?” Annie asked.

“It, uh, didn’t go super well. But I won’t say anymore, the details are Britta’s to share if she wants to.”

“Of course. I’ll make sure to get her out this weekend, even if it’s just to hang out at the mall again.”

“Thanks, Annie. I appreciate it.” Jeff reached over to pat her on the arm before standing up.

“You know, it’s really nice to see how much you’ve grown so much since we first met you,” Annie said.

Jeff looked down at her and tilted his head to one side. “What makes you say that?”

“I mean, you came and voluntarily apologized to me. You asked me to help make sure that Britta’s okay because you care about her that much. The old lawyer Jeff would never be able to do either of those things.”

“He really wouldn’t. Hell, _this_ Jeff was barely able to do either of those things,” he admitted.

Annie laughed. “Well, I’m glad you did,” she said, her eyes drifting to the clock tower behind him, “Now, I don’t mean to ruin this moment, but do you have a class to teach right about now?”

Jeff’s eyes flew down to his watch, which told him that he had exactly one minute before the official start of the class. “Shit, you’re right. Have a good day! See you this afternoon!” he called as he ran down the steps and off to the main school building.

He heard Annie laughing as he sprinted down the street and towards the quad, and took a moment to appreciate how wonderful his friends truly were.

\---

The last thing Britta wanted to do was admit that Jeff was right. They both had been admitting that the other was right a lot lately, but she really didn’t want to add another instance to the pile.

She’d only gotten angry at him because he’d broken the facade. Until this point, she could pretend that she was throwing herself into work in order to earnestly begin saving more money. She was _this_ close to getting a raise at The Vatican, she’d told herself. Her and Todd were really making something of the Shirley’s Sandwiches brand. For the first time in a long time, her bank account wasn’t perpetually running on empty, and her increased dedication to both of her jobs this past week had simply been a result of her wanting to expedite the process of saving up for her own place.

While all of those things may have been true, it was also true that she liked having something to dedicate herself to, pursuits that didn’t leave her much time to get lost in her own head. Because these days, getting lost in her own head meant her train of thought making stops at the things her parents had said. How it had felt to enter her childhood home. Her outburst at the dinner table, and how it marked an even more definitive end to her relationship with them.

Maybe she _had_ been working herself to the bone. But it was better than the alternative.

It also helped that she got to spend a decent amount of time with Todd at the sandwich counter, and he was either blissfully unaware of her shift in demeanor or had decided early on not to say anything. Britta appreciated that. It was nice to have someone to chat with about the weather, his kid, and all of the changes happening at Greendale without having to get too serious.

She’d shown up to Shirley’s Sandwiches that day looking and feeling exhausted, having only gotten a couple hours of sleep following the attack ad crisis. Todd noticed, and offered to do most of the heavy lifting that day without asking any further questions. That was another thing that Britta was quickly coming to appreciate about him; he didn’t need to know why she was acting a certain way. He simply took in the information that was visible to him and attempted to help without making a big deal out of it.

As such, Britta was restocking the vegetables at the sandwich assembly station when Annie bounded up to the counter, much like she had the week prior.

“Hey, Britta!”

“Hey, Annie.”

“Um, first I just wanted to say thanks again. For considering my input and helping to change the ad, even though I was being a little melodramatic about it,” Annie said.

Britta looked up from her container of cucumbers and smiled warmly. “Of course. I wasn’t a big fan of launching a smear campaign against a dog, either.”

“Yeah. And, um…I was wondering if you maybe wanted to hang out this weekend? We could go to the mall or do something else, I just wanted to spend more time together since last time was so nice.”

“Aw, I want to, but…”

She was going to finish the sentence with “I’m working all weekend,” but something made her stop.

 _“I’ve picked up so many shifts lately that I could probably ask my boss to take me off the schedule one day,”_ Britta reasoned, _“And I can just do the bookkeeping work for Shirley on Friday…fuck it. I_ should _take some time off, even if that means Jeff is right.”_

“That sounds great. I just have to ask my boss for some time off,” Britta said.

Annie’s face lit up and she bounced up and down ever so slightly. “Great! Let me know when you know when you’re free.”

“Will do,” Britta said, chuckling at her friend’s enthusiasm.

 _“Maybe things won’t be so bad if I have all of these nerds by my side. God, that sounds like such a cliche,”_ she thought, _“But, if I’m being honest, it’s not the worst cliche in the world.”_

\---

The rest of the day went by rather uneventfully, and the group assembled in the study room after classes were over for a standard committee meeting.

“I know that we’re all tired, so I’m going to cut right to the chase,” Frankie began, “This week, I want us to develop a poll to give to the student body about what they’d like to see at our Halloween dance. Since we’ve cut the number of annual school dances by almost 500%, we should make sure that the ones we do have are satisfactory to attendees.”

“That sounds perfect!” Annie squealed, already writing something down in her fuzzy binder.

“Tomorrow, we can begin drafting up questions and develop a plan for distributing the poll. But right now, I think we should call it a day.”

“Already? That’s it?” Jeff asked, tilting his head to one side.

“I need to sleep, Winger. I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to sit upright,” Frankie replied.

“Works for me,” Elroy said, already getting up from the table.

The rest of the group shrugged, taking it as a good enough reason to end the meeting incredibly early. No one seemed particularly awake, so any extra time spent sitting at the table likely wouldn’t have been that productive anyway.

Britta and Jeff stood up at almost the exact same second, heading out through the study room doors side-by-side.

“So…my boss told me to take tonight off after hearing about all of the excitement from last night. And I was thinking…it’s been a while since we’ve watched Glee together,” she said.

“I guess we did sort of forget about that tradition, didn’t we?” Jeff asked.

“Mhm. Maybe one of us could stop and get some more vodka on our way home? You know, celebrate the successful ad with a round of our drinking game?”

Jeff laughed, shaking his head. “Making up for yesterday’s good idea with a bad one, I see.”

Britta gave him a wry smile. “I guess you could say that.”

“Good, because I just did.”

She sighed, rolling her eyes rather dramatically. “What would we all do if you weren’t such a comedian…”

\---

“So, standard rules or our more intense version?” Jeff asked.

Ultimately, he’d stopped to get the vodka and Britta stopped to pick up a pizza (the two of them coming to an agreement on one laden with spinach, olives, red onion, and bell peppers). They were currently sprawled out on Jeff’s couch with their food and drink on the coffee table, with Britta pulling up the next episode of Glee on a potentially sketchy and most certainly unofficial website.

“Standard. We _do_ still have school tomorrow,” Britta said.

“Fair enough. So a shot every time there’s a musical number, someone cries, two people start making out, and when Rachel closes her eyes and tilts her head to the side while singing?”

“Exactly.”

Britta finally got the episode up and cast it to Jeff’s TV, so they settled down, pizza in hand, and prepared to partake in one of their favorite joint activities.

It only took two minutes for someone to start crying.

“I’ll get the vodka,” Britta grumbled, leaning forward to pour it out into their shot glasses. She handed one over to Jeff once they were both full, then clinked hers against the rim of his.

“Cheers,” he said right before they tipped the shots into their mouths.

Within a few more minutes, the students of William McKinley High had broken into song, Rachel had closed her eyes and tilted her head to the side while singing, and someone else had spontaneously burst into tears. It wasn’t looking good for either Jeff or Britta when two of the students started making out in a supply closet.

“Ah, high school romance. I don’t miss it one bit,” Jeff said after downing another shot.

“I’m not so sure that we’ll ever outgrow all of that shit, though,” Britta replied, setting her glass back down on the coffee table.

“What do you mean? Of course we’ve outgrown all of that shit!”

“But it’s so high school, you know?”

“What is?”

“You know…people assuming that we’re dating now! Abed, Frankie, Elroy…just because they can’t handle the idea of a man and a woman living together and spending a lot of time together _without_ having sex.”

Jeff nodded. Abed’s words from the previous night were swirling around in his head. _“We can finally put this will-they-won’t-they to rest.”_ However, suddenly, he wasn’t so sure that was the case.

_“I don’t have romantic feelings for Britta. I’ve said it a million times. I don’t have feelings for her, she doesn’t have feelings for me. And that-"_

“Do you ever think that we should, though?”

Jeff snapped out of his daze. “I’m sorry, what?” he asked.

She broke out into a fit of giggles. He’d forgotten how giggly she could get after a few shots. “You know, we don’t have anything to lose! Everyone thinks we’re hooking up anyway, so what if we did? Just like old times?”

He shook his head and laughed, a sound that seemed foreign despite coming out of his own mouth. “You’re ridiculous.”

Britta shrugged. “Whatever. It’s not like either of us will really remember this conversation in the morning.” She turned her attention back to the TV in time to see the students breaking out into song. “Ah, another big choreographed musical number. Time to drink!”

_“We won’t really remember this in the morning. Will we? Do we usually? I mean, I usually remember more than she does. But maybe…”_

“Hello, earth to Jeff?” Britta said, waving her hand frantically in front of his face. With her other, she held a shot out to him.

“Oh, sorry,” he mumbled, quickly taking the glass from her.

“You thinking about something? Or just zoning out?” she asked.

“Wait. Don’t take that shot yet.”

“Why?”

He set his own down on the coffee table in front of them and began slowly inching his way across the couch. As if Britta could read his mind, she abandoned hers as well and surged forward to meet him halfway. She threw her arms around his shoulders as his looped themselves around her waist. Neither of them had any time to register what was happening until their lips were frantically locked together, their tongues each sloppily tracing the outlines of the other’s.

It was messy, urgent, and almost desperate as they explored territory that had been left untouched since the end of last year. Jeff could barely think, so he didn’t try to. He instinctively knew how to kiss Britta, so it wasn’t like the action required much thought anyway.

It felt like an electric shock whenever his hands brushed over her bare skin; her neck, her cheek, the stripe between her t-shirt and her jeans. And when they eventually pulled away from one another, he felt the loss of physical contact like it was a stab wound.

Britta gazed at him for a moment, eyes wide and lips parted in shock. “Well…damn, Winger. I didn’t think that you were actually gonna kiss me.”

“I didn’t think _you_ were gonna actually kiss _me_.”

She laughed and sunk back into the couch, picking up a throw pillow and hugging it tightly to her chest. “I _didn’_ t think. I just _did_.”

Jeff nodded, averting his gaze down at the table in front of them. “So…”

“Was that a mistake?”

He paused. “Probably.”

Britta giggled, directing Jeff’s attention back up to her. “Well, that means I should probably get to bed. I haven’t slept much this week, after all.”

“Are we not gonna talk any more about…?”

“Not gonna talk about what?”

Jeff waved one hand dismissively. “Never mind. Sweet dreams.”

Britta nodded. “Same to you.” Jeff thought that she was going to stand up and leave right away, but instead, she leaned in and placed a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

“G’night.”

As she got up and walked away, the episode of Glee still running in the background, Jeff could only watch helplessly as she left him behind on his living room couch with nothing but a slight buzz and a mountain of questions. Namely, how the hell did they keep ending up in situations just like this one?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the restraint involved in taking 50,000 words to make these two kiss was positively unmatched. (and the original plan was to wait even longer! this last scene happened completely on accident, believe it or not.)
> 
> I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter and are having an amazing day/night/whatever time it is where you are!! look forward to hearing from you, stay safe. <3


	8. Unresolved Tension and Bad Acting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dean receives an interesting proposition from the school board, Annie and Chang try out for a play, and Abed and Elroy try to fix the WiFi. Oh, and Britta and Jeff try to make sense of the previous night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 13.5k word chapter? 13.5k word chapter.
> 
> without giving too much away, heads up that there's a non-explicit * _steamier_ * scene near the end of this chapter ~~nobody look at me~~

_“Holy shit. I kissed Jeff fucking Winger last night. He kissed me. We kissed.”_

Britta was laying in her bed, eyes wide open and staring up at the ceiling. She knew that she had to get up, get dressed, and drive to Greendale. But getting up meant leaving the sanctuary of her room and facing the monster that was a probable conversation with Jeff Winger, and she wasn’t quite ready for all of that.

 _“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to even_ look _at him again,”_ she thought, still laying perfectly still, arms by her sides and toes curled around her sheets.

Eventually, obligation was what dragged her out of bed and into the bathroom; obligation to her classes, the committee, and Shirley’s Sandwiches. Certainly not to Jeff.

She took longer than usual to put her hair up and apply her makeup, intentionally dragging the process out because she knew what awaited her on the other side of the door. Usually, when she took this long, Jeff would either already be knocking or just barge in with little warning. Today, however, Britta didn’t sense him come anywhere near the bathroom.

Every step out into the living room made her legs feel more and more like jelly. Britta barely had the strength to make it to the kitchen. But when she finally made it to the espresso machine and saw that Jeff wasn’t there, she was able to let out a particularly strong sigh of relief.

The relief didn’t last long. As she was making her morning coffee, a familiar face appeared on the other side of the bar.

“Uh…hi.”

Britta looked up too soon and made eye contact with Jeff. His expression was incredibly pained, as if he were preparing for an inevitable collision.

“Good morning.”

“Can you keep the machine on? I still have to make my coffee.”

“Of course.”

She felt like she might be treating Jeff a little too formally, but she wasn’t sure how else to treat him. He timidly rounded the counter and came to stand by the fridge, keeping a healthy amount of distance between the two of them.

Britta set about stirring her sugar into her espresso. It was quiet - almost too quiet. The only sound was the spoon clinking against the sides of the cup, like the rattling in her brain and the beating of her heart and Jeff’s footsteps on his way over to the machine and the whirring noise it made as it began to brew his coffee. There was no use in continuing this unproductive silence. She had to be the one to put it and the elephant in the room out of their misery.

“We need to actually talk about what happened last night, right?”

Jeff let out a breath that he’d apparently been holding. “Yeah. I think we do.”

“Great. Perfect. Sounds awesome.”

Britta stepped aside and leaned against the side of the counter closest to the fridge, sipping her drink as she watched Jeff suddenly take immense interest in his own as it finished dripping out of the machine.

“Can we not be weird about this?” he requested without looking up, “I mean, this is hardly the first time that we…”

“Made out?”

“Yeah. I don’t know why I couldn’t say it.” Jeff was nervously rubbing the back of his neck as he grabbed a stirring spoon.

“I don’t think it has to be a big deal. We were both a little tipsy and really tired after the situation room thing, we can just write it off as being a result of that, right?” Britta said.

 _“I sound too hopeful,”_ she instantly thought, _“like that’s unachievable, when it totally is.”_

“Right. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

Britta tipped her head to one side, narrowing her eyes at Jeff. Something about his body language and tone seemed suspicious to her. It was almost like he didn’t fully agree with her, like he didn’t quite believe what he was saying.

“Kinda seems like it was a medium deal to you.”

She regretted the words when Jeff turned towards her and narrowed his eyes right back. “That’s rather presumptuous of you.”

“I know,” she said, “but you just seemed kind of…hesitant to agree with me.”

He looked back down at his mug, which he’d just finished stirring sugar into. He didn’t say anything, just stared down into the still swirling liquid with an intensity that Britta hadn’t seen from him in a while.

“Do you remember anything else from last night?” he asked suddenly.

Britta tried to think back on the events of the night, but they were all shrouded in a sort of fog. She remembered starting to watch Glee. She remembered laughing and making jokes about the show as they took shots together. She remembered Jeff giving her a look so distinct that she could place his intentions right away, remembered crashing into him against her better judgement, remembered the sparks that seemed to fly right off of him. If most of the night was hazy at best, the last scene was in full Technicolor vision.

“No, not anything else, really. Not anything out of the ordinary, at least.”

“Okay. Cool.”

Jeff finally took his cup off the machine and leaned against the counter opposite Britta so that he had to look right at her. She wished that he would look away, that his gaze wouldn’t feel so piercing, that maybe he would say something to make her feel better about the whole situation.

Instead of seeking comfort, Britta surprised herself by asking a different question.

“What are you not telling me?”

“I’m sorry? What do you mean?”

“There’s clearly something you remember that I don’t. C’mon, out with it. I don’t care if it makes things more awkward, I just can’t stand this for much longer.”

Jeff sighed, setting his cup down on the counter behind him and running one hand through his hair. “Well…it’s kind of something you said before we kissed.”

Britta tried and failed to conjure the memory of what he might be talking about. There was only Glee and shots and him telling her not to take one so that he could kiss her.

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember.”

“I don’t remember it super well. But you said something to the effect of…everyone thinks we’re hooking up, so we might as well do it.”

She froze. _She’d_ said that? That sounded like a classic Jeff move. He must not be remembering correctly. There’s no way she even thought about sleeping with him for a _second_ last night.

“Huh. Interesting.”

“Is that all?”

Britta took a deep breath. “Listen…I really think we can chalk everything up to a weird night. Neither of us were really feeling 100%, so we can take whatever happened and whatever was said with a huge grain of salt.”

“Sure,” Jeff said with a short nod, “that works for me.”

It didn’t quite seem like it did, but Britta wasn’t going to be the one to say anything. Instead, she gave him a weak smile, finished her espresso, and headed out the door to drive to Greendale alone.

\---

Of course, they had to face each other again after a very short amount of time on account of having a morning committee meeting. To make matters worse, they couldn’t even fiddle with their phones to avoid looking at each other as they waited for everyone to trickle in since the campus wifi was out.

“I was going to show you all my latest project. But I guess I can’t do that since I can’t stream it,” Abed grumbled.

“You don’t have it saved on your computer?” Chang asked.

Abed narrowed his eyes at their former Spanish teacher. “No. The space on my hard drive is too important.”

Before anyone could ask a single clarifying question, Frankie strode in through the back door and took her usual seat.

“The WiFi’s broken,” Abed announced.

“What happened to ‘good morning’?” Frankie grumbled as she tossed a file folder onto the table.

“It’s a bad morning. There’s no WiFi.”

“Yeah, we really need it,” Jeff chimed in. Britta had to suppress an eye roll at his insistence.

 _“Like you_ needed _to make things weird this morning. Everything would be fine if you would have just acted normal and pretended like you didn’t hear me say what you think I said.”_ It wasn’t her fault that the tension had been unbearable and that they’d needed to address it first thing in the morning. But it was 100% his fault that they were now skittishly avoiding one another’s gaze and seemed to both want nothing but space.

“Okay, let’s not get carried away. We _need_ oxygen,” Frankie countered.

“We _have_ oxygen, we _need_ WiFi,” Elroy insisted.

“What’s all this about oxygen?”

The committee members turned towards the front door to see the Dean strolling over to the table.

“Not oxygen, WiFi! Ours is out, and we need it back,” Jeff insisted.

“I need to stream my movie,” Abed said.

“And I have to illegally download several copies of _The Notebook_ by Nicholas Sparks!” Chang added.

Jeff raised an eyebrow. “Why several?”

“Okay, okay. Look, I’ll fix it,” the Dean said, pulling Annie’s notebook across the table and towards himself. He grabbed one of her sacred purple pens and began to scribble ‘fix WiFi’ in large print on a blank sheet.

“And…boom,” he said triumphantly, tearing the page out of the notebook and sliding it down the table towards Frankie.

She picked up the sheet and sighed. “Look, I’m trying to find the IT lady. My emails to her get bounced back in Aramaic, and when I call, I hear an undulating high pitched whistle that makes my nose bleed.”

“Well, sounds like a bad IT lady, right?” Annie said.

“In that case, Frankie, hire a new IT lady,” the Dean instructed.

“I’m pretty handy with technology,” Elroy interjected, “I’m assuming it’s still the same. Smaller holes, more bytes? I mean, what are we up to now, mega?”

“Tera,” Abed said.

Elroy paused to look over his shoulder, giving a small shake of his head. “Tera. They did it, those bastards. They finally did it,” he muttered.

The Dean smiled. “Well then, Frankie, hire Elroy. Elroy, you’re the new IT lady.”

“Can I be his assistant?” Abed asked.

“Not for money.”

“Can I be his friend?”

“Elroy, Abed is your friend.”

Elroy squinted at his new friend, looking over at Britta after a moment. She gave him an encouraging smile, prompting him to shrug and smile weakly at Abed.

 _“God, they’re practically the same person. It won’t be long before they’re friends for real and not just by the Dean’s orders,”_ she thought.

“Now! The real reason I came by…” the Dean started, “I’m dying.”

The table fell silent. Everyone looked at him with open mouths, all clearly in shock.

“Not really, but imagine how bad you’d feel for complaining about the WiFi,” he quickly added. The group all relaxed, each letting out their own sigh of relief.

Britta scoffed. “That was a cheap shot.”

“And I took it! Now, the _actual_ real reason I’m here,” he said, holding up a finger to the end of his tie, “Too short?”

Britta turned away, shaking her head in disbelief. For a moment, she caught a glimpse of Jeff, who seemed to be focusing solely on her.

_“What’s he doing? Do I have something on my face? Does he just want to look at me? Is he smiling? Should I- no. This is what he wants. Don’t look over at him.”_

She steeled herself as the Dean continued to ramble about his choice of tie. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that Jeff was still looking right at her. So Britta allowed her gaze to drift back over to the left.

Just as she’d suspected, he wasn’t even attempting to hide the fact that he was looking right at her. And his face was indeed plastered with the kind of smile that had always meant Britta was about to be in deep, deep trouble.

\---

Jeff had prepared an actual lecture for his Intro to Law class that day. But when he tried to give it, his mouth seemed to fill up with cotton balls and his brain drew nothing but blanks. So instead of soldier on, he assigned a review activity that he’d been saving for a rainy day and sat back as his students partnered up and set about completing the worksheet.

 _“The kiss was_ not _a medium deal to me,”_ Jeff thought as he reclined the best that he could in his desk chair. _“It was a small deal, a very small deal. She’s right. We’ve made out before. Just because I still think she’s pretty doesn’t mean that we can’t chalk it all up to a drunken, sleep deprived mistake.”_

But there were seeds of doubt firmly planted in his mind at this point. Ones that had been growing since the night before the semester started, after his discussion with Abed.

He had resolved that plot line. He loved Britta, platonically. That was it. He didn’t need to waste any more time thinking about it.

However, that was before the kiss. A plot twist, as Abed might call it. He’d leaned in first, sure. But she’d leaned in to meet him just as readily. Could it _really_ be just a mistake on both of their parts? After all that they had been through, after all of the time they’d spent together, after getting as close as they had gotten lately, was this really meaningless? Was there even one way it possibly could be?

He didn’t know. He wasn’t sure if he wanted the real answer.

\---

Britta was glad that she hadn’t yet asked her manager at The Vatican to take Saturday off, because now, she could tell Annie that she couldn’t hang out because of a work emergency and use her schedule as an excuse to avoid Jeff.

 _“Am I really going to let this become just another thing on the pile of stuff to try and forget?”_ she thought as she was slicing bread in the back of Shirley’s Sandwiches. She didn’t have many other, healthier coping mechanisms. The pile had grown so large that it was practically insurmountable, and despite the fact that she’d resolved to stop throwing herself into her work, she didn’t see a better or more immediate way to handle her current situation.

Once all the bread was sliced, she carried it out to the front where Todd was currently preparing sandwiches for a surprisingly large group of customers. As Britta set the basket down beside him, she noticed a familiar face near the edge of the stand.

“Hey, Frankie! How’s it going?”

“Alright, I suppose,” the other woman said, pursing her lips. Britta jogged over to her and propped her elbows up on the counter between them.

“Elroy and Abed still haven’t fixed the WiFi,” Frankie began to elaborate, “Annie told me that her and Chang are taking a half day so that he can audition for a Karate Kid play. And I think some members of the school board showed up today to talk to the Dean? But he hasn’t filled me in on what’s happened there.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing bad, then,” Britta attempted to assure her.

“Or it _is_ something bad and he’s trying to hide it from me.”

“Well…you don’t have to worry about it until it becomes a problem, right?”

Frankie flashed her a weak smile. “Right. Anyway, I’m glad to see that this stand seems to have turned itself around. You and Todd have really put in some good work.”

“Thanks, Frankie,” Britta said earnestly. “I’m glad you approve.”

“Hey, at this point, as long as something’s not actively hurting the school, I have to approve,” she joked.

“I’m happy to hear that we’ve successfully lowered your standards.”

“You know that’s not something one usually brags about, right?”

“I do. But, this is Greendale, after all.”

\---

It was only a few short hours before the committee was gathered in the study room again for their last afternoon check-in before the weekend. Britta was still avoiding Jeff, who seemed to have gotten the memo and was now actively avoiding even her gaze as well. So she was sitting on one of the couches across from Frankie while he sat at the table when Annie and Chang rushed into the room, Annie grinning triumphantly.

“We got the parts!” she exclaimed.

“Congrats,” Abed said.

“Hear, hear!” Elroy added.

“Parts for what?” Jeff asked.

“The Karate Kid play we tried out for!” Annie explained.

“There’s a Karate Kid play?”

Britta shook her head, standing up to join everyone else at the table. Frankie quickly followed suit, exchanging an amused look with Britta as she sat down.

“Yeah! It’s a new adaptation, the script looks great.”

“I mean, originally, only I was supposed to try out. And then Annie stole my part and I got cast as the Asian character,” Chang said, slumping over in his seat.

“Chang! We were cast as Mr. Miyagi and the Karate Kid because we’re a good team,” Annie insisted. It was becoming clear that this was a point of contention for both parties involved, and would likely continue to be a sore subject.

“We’re a team because one of us is so talented, she got cast outside her gender, and the other one got cast because of eye shape.”

“I’m not letting you sabotage yourself like this. You deserve the role,” Annie said, “and you can make it your own now! Give Mr. Miyagi even more depth!”

“Hm…I hadn’t thought about it like that. I guess you’re right,” Chang replied. “Maybe I was just too old to play Daniel, anyway.”

They exchanged smiles, appearing to come to at least a temporary understanding.

“Alright, IT lady, how goes it?” the Dean asked as he strolled into the room and grabbed everyone’s attention.

“I found the problem,” Elroy said, sounding far more timid than usual.

“And?”

Elroy looked across the table to Abed, who stared back at him without a hint of emotion. Britta wasn’t quite sure of the reason for the silent exchange, but it ended with Elroy looking back up at the Dean and flashing a more confident smile.

“I’ll need a little more time to fix it,” he asserted.

“Wow, need time to fix it! You sound just like you work in IT,” the Dean gushed, “Well, I’ve got some...interesting news. The school board offered me a position.”

 _“Really?”_ Britta thought as she and the others verbally congratulated him, _“This school is held together with duct tape and a prayer. At least it was before Frankie got here. If anything, she deserves a spot on the school board. But that’s probably the last thing she wants.”_

“Well, I got a part in a play and we were sort of talking about that, so…read the room, Pelton,” Chang interjected.

Britta shook her head at his aside before looking up to where the Dean stood over her. “So, are you gonna take the job?”

“I don’t know. There’s…a catch.”

“What kind of catch?” Annie asked, eyes widening.

“Well…” the Dean sighed, “they only want me for the position if I can be gay.”

“...aren’t you?” Jeff asked, head tipping to the side.

“Jeff!” Britta chided, swatting him on the arm, forgetting that she was supposed to be ignoring his existence. He gave her a mildly perturbed look, one that seemed to say _‘What? I’m right.’_ in the most infuriating way possible.

“I’m not… _just_ gay,” the Dean replied, “If coming out is a magic show, and gayness is a rabbit out of a hat, I’m one of those never-ending handkerchiefs.”

“So they’re asking you to ignore a part of yourself and pretend that you’re one hundred percent gay?” Britta asked.

He nodded. “Precisely.”

Britta felt a long-dormant anger rising within her. Anger at her parents insisting that she’d just been through a ‘lesbian phase’ despite still acknowledging her past girlfriends as her girlfriends. Anger at her childhood friends for telling her that she was gross and confusing. Anger at everyone who had ever mocked her or derogatorily called her lesbian and delayed her journey of self-acceptance. Now, her bisexuality was simply a mundane fact about her, something that could be used in a game of two truths and a lie or lightheartedly joked about. But something about this situation made her feel like a scared thirteen year old again, crying in her literal closet since her parents had taken her bedroom door off of its hinges, after her best friend had decided to stop being friends with her because she’d committed the crime of wanting to kiss both girls and boys.

“That’s not fair! You should turn them down right away, they’re trying to make you be something that you’re not. And for what, just to make them look better?”

“It’s to make them appear as though they aren’t homophobic since they recently cancelled a pride parade for a school board parade,” the Dean explained.

“Now, I agree with Britta, but the real question is for you, Craig. Are you prepared to make your sexuality - which is nobody’s business - an aspect of your role in society?” Frankie asked, leaning forward in her chair, “I know I’m not, so I don’t.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Britta saw Jeff’s mouth twitch. He had turned to face the Dean, who was furrowing his brow in confusion at her roommate.

 _“Gay?”_ she saw Jeff mouth. She couldn’t stop a laugh from escaping her throat, which she quickly disguised as a cough when Abed whipped around to give her a questioning glance.

“When a person becomes symbolic, they gain symbolic power at the price of independent power. They want you to be a symbol they can hold up to prove that they’re not homophobic,” Frankie continued.

“Frankie’s right,” Britta said, “They want you to be like…like a show pony they can bring out and trot around when it’s convenient for them. It’s not right, and you don’t deserve that! As a society, we should be past the point of stuffing gay people into the specific boxes that we feel comfortable with. You shouldn’t take the job if it means sacrificing who you are.”

She braced herself for the others to laugh at her, as they always had whenever she got too political. But no laughter came.

_“Maybe they’re just being nice today. Or maybe, I actually made a good point for once.”_

“Britta, I had no idea that you had such an interest in the advancement of gay rights,” the Dean said, staring at her with an open mouth.

She gave him a weak smile in return. “Yeah, well, I kind of _have_ to be interested.”

The table all spun to face her, staring her down in disbelief.

“Wait, so…Pierce was right about you?” Annie asked in a hushed voice.

“What? No! Ack, I can’t believe you said those words in that order,” Britta said, shaking her head as if to rid herself of the possibility of Pierce being right about anything. “I’m not a lesbian, I’m bi.”

“You’re bi?” Jeff couldn’t help but ask.

She snorted. “Why are you so surprised? You literally _just_ heard my parents talk about my first girlfriend,” she said with an unintentional amount of vitriol.

Frankie looked down the table at her with a previously unseen level of admiration. “That’s…that’s wonderful, Britta. Thanks for sharing with us.”

“Wait, but what about the whole Paige thing, then?” Annie asked.

“Oh, that? Well, number one, despite having girlfriends and sleeping with women before, I was still pretty deep in denial about actually being bi and assumed that I’d just been experimenting. And number two, I really thought she was a lesbian, I just hadn’t kissed a girl in a long time and lied about not having done it before to make her feel better because she seemed really uncomfortable,” Britta explained, “We’ve talked since then, and we’re cool. And she’s actually bi now, too.”

“Oh,” Annie squeaked, “I had no idea.”

“Is that a bad thing, Annie?”

“No! No, of course not, it’s a great thing, you know? Great for…great for those…people…great for you, really!” she sputtered.

Britta squinted suspiciously at her friend, but let the conversation carry on without prying further.

“I mean…I wouldn’t know anything about what it’s like to have to lie like that,” Jeff started.

“Oh, you wouldn’t? I think your freshman self would beg to differ,” Abed said. Jeff gave him a confused look, to which the other man raised his eyebrows suggestively.

“Wait, what’s happening here?” Annie asked, eyes darting between both of her friends as Jeff grew more visibly uncomfortable and Abed continued wiggling his eyebrows. Britta was glad that Annie had said something, because she was beginning to draw some strange conclusions from the entire interaction.

“...nothing. Nothing’s happening. Point is, I may be out of line here, but this could be good for Greendale. We’ve been making lots of improvements, fixing things, getting our enrollment up…but imagine how much easier it all would be if one of our own was on the school board,” Jeff reasoned.

“Sure, but that’s the Dean’s call to make,” Britta retorted.

“It is,” the man in question said, appearing to be deep in thought. “You have a point, Jeffrey. It might be nice to be the guy on the inside, so to speak.”

“Right. And this is all politics, you don’t have to be completely transparent. The goal is winning, not transparency,” Jeff elaborated.

Britta glared at him, knowing that the Dean would take whatever he said as the uncontested truth. _“Always thinking of yourself and what you want, aren’t you.”_

“You’re right. I have a chance to win. I could change the system from the inside out! It might be worth paring down my sexuality to simple gayness - which is still heavily in the mix,” the Dean said.

“Now, would it be worth it, though? Let’s run a quick cost-benefit analysis. I mean, it’s not that I doubt your abilities, but politicians rarely get the chance to fulfill the lofty goals they set for themselves. Gridlock and the complex democratic process are very real things that won’t go away overnight just because you begin to contribute to them,” Frankie observed. Britta thought that she was starting to like her more and more with each passing day.

“Sure. But…I think Jeff is right,” the Dean asserted, placing a hand on Jeff’s shoulder. “It’s not lying about who I am, it’s just not being fully transparent! And that’s okay when it comes to politics.”

Frankie sighed. “I’m not sure that should be your takeaway, but…I’ll support your decision, no matter what it is.”

“Same here,” Britta said, “but to be totally honest, I still think it’s shitty of the school board to make you into their gay shield.”

The Dean dismissed her concern with a wave of his hand. “It’s alright, Britta. I’m okay with it, as long as I can use the position to make a real change.”

She caught Jeff’s gaze and narrowed her eyes at him, to which he only responded by giving a grin that screamed trying-too-hard-to-play-innocent.

_“God, if only I could wipe that stupid grin off his face. Maybe shove him against a wall and- oh. Fuck.”_

\---

Their afternoon check-in wrapped up rather quickly and the committee prepared to clear out of the room even quicker, most of the members eager to start their weekends. But Britta was moving a little slower than the others. This weekend was just another one to get through, especially now that she wanted it to be jam-packed so as to avoid long stretches of one-on-one time with Jeff. She had way bigger things on her plate, anyway. Why worry about Jeff? He was just Jeff. And she’d kissed Jeff before. And thought about shoving Jeff against a wall before. And _actually_ shoved him into a wall on more than one occasion. So it was normal to have thoughts like that every once in a while, right? There was no reason to be alarmed or waste any more time mulling it over. _He_ was the one who had been acting strange. She would avoid him for his sake, since he seemed to still be recovering from the events of the previous night. That was it. She was doing this for _him_ , not because she was confused or scared or anything. She would avoid him because-

“So…Britta!” Annie chirped, interrupting her train of thought. Britta looked up from the messenger bag she’d been fiddling with as she waited for Jeff to leave the room first.

“What’s up, Annie?”

“Did you end up getting any time off this weekend? I mean, my schedule’s a little fuller than I’d thought, with play rehearsal and all. They’re planning to get this thing put on within the week, if you can believe it.”

Britta winced upon seeing her friend’s hopeful face. “Ah, sorry, Annie. I couldn’t get any time off.”

“Oh, that’s okay! I’ll just come visit you at the bar after rehearsal!” she said cheerfully, already picking up her bag and heading for the door, content to have found what seemed like a perfect solution.

“I mean, you could, but…”

“But what?”

Britta wasn’t able to think of a single reason why Annie _couldn’t_ visit her fast enough. So she stared at her blankly for a moment before answering: “I don’t see why not! That sounds great.”

“Great! We can catch up at least a little when you’re not serving anyone, right?” Annie asked.

“Right,” Britta confirmed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jeff walking out the front door and was able to let out an incredibly small sigh of relief. “Well, good luck with play rehearsal!”

“We in the industry actually prefer the term ‘break a leg.’ Saying ‘good luck’ actually means bad luck in the theatre,” Annie said, her expression suddenly becoming extremely solemn.

“Oh. My bad?”

“It’s okay! Just don’t do it again.”

 _“This girl…”_ Britta thought, shaking her head as she followed Annie out of the study room and towards her parking lot. And suddenly, it hit her that this was the first Friday night ever where she was actually excited to go to work.

\---

So she was going to keep ignoring him. That was fine. It was fine that he had been relegated to being another bullet point on her long list of problems. It was fine that he was sitting alone in their apartment on a Friday night, cracking open one of the ciders that she liked and sipping on it while watching an E! News talk show that he could barely bring himself to care about.

However, because there was rarely a dull moment in his life, his phone rang during a commercial break. Deciding that it was as good a night as any to roll the dice, Jeff answered it without so much as glancing at the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Oh, Jeffery! You picked up!”

Jeff kept himself from groaning out loud when he recognized the Dean’s voice. “What do you want, Craig?”

“Well, you see, the school board wants to host a press conference on Monday to announce their decision to add me as a member. But there’s just one thing…”

“Which is?”

“They want me to have a fake boyfriend by then. And, I was thinking, who should be my fake boyfriend? And I-”

“I won’t be your fake boyfriend, Craig.”

“I wasn’t going to ask you to do that, Jeffery. Though it’s cute that you thought I would. No, I was wondering if you knew anyone who is looking for a temporary, low-paying position.”

“Why ask me?”

“I don’t know, none of the others seemed to really support this plan. And I thought that you might know some well-dressed fellows in need of a side gig.”

“You did _not_ just use the word ‘fellows.’”

“I did in-dean.”

Jeff audibly sighed. “Well, I hate to disappoint, but I don’t really know anyone who fits that bill. No one outside of our group, anyway.”

“Hm, alright. Maybe I’ll ask Abed if he knows anyone.”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“Um…” the Dean hummed for a second, “can I ask you one more thing before I let you go?”

Jeff shifted his position so that he was sitting up straighter on his couch and pulled a throw pillow into his lap. “I don’t see why not.”

“Great. Uh, do you still think this is the right call? You know, lying to get what I want?”

“Personally, I think it is. Remember, you’re not lying, you’re just not telling the whole truth for the good of Greendale. But if you start having second thoughts, you can always pull out.”

“Title of my sex tape,” the Dean muttered. Jeff rolled his eyes as the other man chuckled at his own joke. “But really, you’re right. I can quit any time. And…for what it’s worth, Jeffery, I think it’s really nice that you care about Greendale so much now.”

“Greendale _does_ cut my paycheck…”

“I know. I know you have to play it cool. But if I can be sincere, I’m very proud of you. Always have been.”

Jeff was at somewhat of a loss for words. He didn’t _do_ sincerity, not on a regular basis, at least. He could do it for short Winger speeches and on momentous occasions when he had to let the people in front of him know how much they meant to him. But being sincere in everyday situations? That would be too much to ask.

There wasn’t any reason he couldn’t try, though.

“Thanks, Craig. You know, we’re really proud of you, too. I know that the school board wants you just to be a gay Dean, but you’re more than that. You’ve put in a lot of work over the past five years. It may not have always gotten results, but you never stopped trying,” he said.

“Aw, Jeffery! That’s so sweet of you,” the Dean cooed.

He smiled to himself, for no reason in particular. “Of course. Now, you should probably call Abed and get a fake boyfriend before people outside of the school board can launch any investigations.”

“I will. Thanks for the help, Jeffery.”

“I didn’t really help much.”

“Oh, you’ve helped more than you’ll ever know.” The Dean paused. “Anyway, I’ll _dean_ you later!”

“What is that even a pun of?” Jeff asked as the other man hung up the phone.

He was left to sit alone again, with his cider and E! News as the only distractions from the void that seemed to stretch out in front of him.

He’d just been emotionally honest with the Dean, and he hadn’t hated it. So why couldn’t he be that honest with Britta?

 _“Because she won’t be honest with you,”_ he reasoned, _“and…you won’t be honest with yourself.”_

“Shit,” he said aloud to no one in particular.

He couldn’t keep lying to himself that the kiss had been a small deal, or that he didn’t want to do it again. Undeniably, he was still attracted to Britta. Maybe always had been. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with that information, though. If she didn’t feel the same, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

But at least he didn’t want to actually _date_ her.

 _“Right? It’s normal to want to sleep with your best friend. I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again,”_ he thought. _“At least I can admit that I’m attracted to her. I’m not sure why there was a time where I couldn’t.”_

And he meant that. She was Britta, she was beautiful. She was a storm, a force of nature, in all the best ways. It would be crazier to say that he _didn’t_ want her, even though that’s what he’d been saying since the end of the previous year. Since they broke off their engagement.

And there it was. The one thing he still didn’t want to confront, with good reason.

 _“Whatever. I’ll just try to talk to her sometime this weekend. Maybe. Or, on second thought, I could never bring it up ever again and forget all about it,”_ Jeff reasoned. _“Yeah. That’ll work.”_

—-

“And he’s been horrible to Chang! He says things like he’s going to stab him with his own tears and throws things at him and other really awful stuff,” Annie said. She was sitting across from Britta, who was still technically on duty behind the bar.

Britta considered the situation as she dried off a wet glass. “That _is_ awful.”

“I just don’t know what to do about it.”

“You could drop out of the play.”

“Well…I could. But the director’s not being mean to me. Oh! I know! I could threaten to quit if he doesn’t start treating Chang better!”

“Or you could just both quit?”

Annie sighed. “I don’t know, Britta. This might sound silly, but…I feel like I was born to act. When I do it, I can feel it pleasing the universe.”

Britta stifled a laugh. “That’s…dramatic.”

“See!” Annie chirped. “Anyway, that’s enough about me and the play. How are things going with you?”

Britta’s mind began to quickly spin through the events of the past two weeks. Seeing her parents. The situation room. Kissing Jeff. Ignoring Jeff. Being upset with her parents. Thinking about Jeff.

The situation room was the only topic out of the bunch that Britta felt like discussing with Annie at that particular moment, but they’d both been there for that. So instead, she settled on an incredibly neutral answer.

“Oh, you know…nothing _that_ exciting happening.”

“Sure. But how are you doing?”

Britta looked at Annie’s almost-doe eyes and sighed. They _had_ talked about their parents before she’d gone to see them, so she supposed she owed the end of the story to her friend. And somehow, when given the choice between talking about Deb and George Perry or Jeff Winger, the answer was obvious.

“Not great, I’ll admit. I haven’t been since I had dinner with my parents.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. Um, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. Not at work, or ever. But I just want to know that you’re okay, and I want _you_ to know that I’m here if you ever want to,” Annie said earnestly.

Britta thought for a moment “You know, I think I _do_ want to talk about it. I haven’t since I left their house. And I know you’ve been through this, too.”

Annie nodded. “Alright. How did it go, then?”

“Um, well…at first, it seemed like they had grown. Changed, at least. But they still were in denial about everything they’d done to me. They didn’t want to talk about it, they just wanted to smooth me over like I was…like I was a wrinkle in their bedspread.”

Annie reached across the bar and grabbed one of Britta’s hands as she put the glass that she had been cleaning down. “I’m really, really sorry. I know that you were hopeful that it would go well.”

Britta weakly smiled back. “Yeah, well, at least I have the answers that I had been looking for, if nothing else. I know for sure that I don’t want them back in my life.”

“Yeah, you do! That’s a good way to look at it.”

“And I don’t have to spend any more time worrying about them.”

“But you’re allowed to be sad, you know. You don’t have to magically be better right away,” Annie assured her.

Britta smiled and squeezed her hand back. “Thanks, Annie. I’m lucky to have a friend like you.”

Suddenly, Annie looked down at the counter and dropped Britta’s hand. She seemed to be taking an unexpected interest in the pattern of the wood on the bar, tracing the outlines with her fingertips.

“Um, Annie? Is everything okay?”

“Hm? Oh, yes! There’s just…there’s something I want to tell you, but I feel like I shouldn’t?”

Britta raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“Well…you know what, I’m sure it’s fine,” she relented rather quickly, leaning over the bar to be closer to Britta. “Jeff checked in with me to see if I knew if you were doing okay, and wanted to make sure that I was planning on hanging out with you this weekend. Isn’t that sweet?!”

“Wait…he what?”

“He wanted to make sure that you were doing okay!”

“Yeah, but…why tell me this?” Britta asked, head tipping to one side.

“Because he cares about you, Britta. He cares about you _so much_ , and I wanted to make sure that you knew,” Annie said, her expression deadly serious.

“Listen…” Britta started, her head spinning as she tried to settle on a response, “that’s cool, but that’s the kind of thing that people only get excited over if they have a crush on someone or whatever.”

“If you’re implying that I still have a crush on Jeff, then-”

“I wasn’t.”

“Well, at any rate, I don’t. I’ve been over it for a while.”

“That’s good to hear,” Britta said. _“Why is that good to hear? I never cared about whatever happened between them that much. Why now? Why-”_

“Um, you know…that reminds me, I also wanted to tell you that your announcement kind of inspired me.”

“Which announcement?”

“When…when you told us that you were bi. Because…I…” Annie paused to take a deep breath, “I think I’m like you. But I don’t think I like men at all.”

Britta’s eyes widened. “ _Oh._ So you’re a-”

“Lesbian,” Annie completed confidently, “I think I’m a lesbian.”

“That’s great that you’re owning that, Annie! I remember when you couldn’t even say the word.”

“I know, right? I had a lot of stuff to work through. Still have some left.”

“Progress is progress. How’d you even figure it out?”

“Honestly, I should have known a lot sooner than I did. I never felt the way about my boyfriends that people said I should and I only really liked the idea of ‘fixing’ men to make them love me,” she elaborated, “I didn’t _love_ any of them. I just…loved the idea of being loved.”

“Wow. That’s some pretty deep stuff. I just figured out that I was bi when I thought about kissing girls. Granted, it took me a while to start using the label, but…still a little shallower than that. I’m really happy for you, Annie,” Britta said.

Annie smiled. “Thanks, Britta. Frankie really was the one who helped me realize it. We had lunch together one day, and ended up talking for a really long time. She’s a lesbian, too, and she said that she saw a lot of her young self in me. Ambitious, driven…and didn’t like men the way that she thought she should.”

Britta thought back to Frankie’s comment from the committee meeting on Friday, and all of the puzzle pieces slotted right into place. “That’s great. Frankie’s really cool, isn’t she?”

“The coolest!” Annie exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. “She’s the only older lesbian that I’ve known, and…I don’t know. I think it took seeing someone like me be successful and happy to really admit what I was to myself.”

“Sometimes that’s all it takes.”

“Right,” Annie beamed.

“Well…I’m happy to have inspired you. Thanks for sharing that with me,” Britta said earnestly.

“Of course. And…you can just forget what I said about Jeff, if you really want to.”

Britta didn’t intend to say what she said next. The words just seemed to spill right out of her, since they’d both been rather open and honest for the duration of their conversation.

“We kissed two nights ago.”

She immediately winced. Annie could only stare at her with an open mouth.

“ _What?_ Does that mean-”

“No, it doesn’t mean anything,” Britta said quickly, “we were both a little tipsy and tired and it was an accident.”

“But you’re telling me about it,” Annie observed.

“And?”

“If it was really an accident that didn’t mean anything…you’d probably just choose to never mention it to anyone ever again.”

Britta stared blankly at the wall behind Annie. _“Why did I say that? Why did I do that? I didn’t want to tell her, because I knew something like this would happen. I wasn’t going to tell anyone! What’s wrong with me?”_

“Britta, for what it’s worth…you both seem to care about each other an awful lot. Your kiss doesn’t have to mean anything, but it doesn’t have to mean nothing, either.”

“You’re right. I guess. Ugh, I didn’t want to think about this. It’s _way_ easier to ignore shit and keep myself busy than think about my feelings.”

“Well, that’s not a very healthy attitude for a future therapist to take,” Annie remarked.

Britta sighed. “Touché.”

Annie flashed her a sympathetic smile. “It’ll be alright, Britta. You don’t have to have all the answers right away. Progress is progress, right?”

Progress towards what, Britta didn’t want to acknowledge. But she smiled back at Annie regardless. “Right. Progress is progress.”

\---

Jeff somewhat regretted the advice he’d given the Dean when he saw him at the press conference; clearly uncomfortable, brushing both the heads of the school board and his fake boyfriend aside. But it all would be fine so long as he was able to execute the plans for change he had. Right?

And Britta had spent the entire weekend avoiding him. Whatever. At least when they saw each other, she had the decency to be civil and entertain short conversations with him. They were going to be fine, too. They just needed time for the discomfort and awkwardness to blow over. And time to forget what it had felt like to connect in that way again. And time to remember how much of an awful, horrible, terrible idea slipping up like that again would be.

He wanted to voice his concerns about the school board to someone, though. Usually, he’d go to Abed in situations like this where he needed an impartial voice of reason, but he was still busy helping Elroy fix the WiFi. If he needed to vent or wanted to take action, he would go to Britta, but that wasn’t exactly something that he wanted to do at the moment. Annie and Chang were busy with the play, he couldn’t voice concerns about the Dean to the Dean, and so that left only one person.

He caught Frankie by the arm on their way out of the conference room.

“Hey. Can we talk for a second?”

“That depends. What do you want to talk about?”

“All of this.”

“Good, I do too,” she said, glancing side to side before motioning for Jeff to follow her down the hall. He obliged, moving quickly alongside her until they were far enough away from everyone that had been in a conference room.

“So, how do you feel?”

Jeff paused, considering how to most carefully word his opinions. “I thought that this was the right choice for Greendale. But just after seeing the Dean up there, I’m not so sure that it was the right choice for him _or_ the school.”

“Agreed. They won’t listen to him, they just want him to be a prop,” Frankie concurred, “Like Britta said, they want him to be a show pony to drag out and trot around.”

“Right,” Jeff said, trying not to tense up at the mere mention of his roommate.

“Let’s keep close tabs on everything. The school board, the Dean, potential policy changes…all of it.”

“Already on it.”

Frankie’s mouth quirked up into a curious smirk. “You know, you can still be mildly irritating, but I think that I’m starting to appreciate you.”

“Thanks for being so honest?”

“It’s a compliment. Take it,” she insisted.

“You sure do have a strange way of complimenting people.”

“Thanks. I’ve noticed that my straightforward nature somehow tends to confuse people more, which seems paradoxical.”

Jeff shook his head and gave a low chuckle. “You can say that again…”

\---

That afternoon, Britta wrapped up at Shirley’s Sandwiches early and headed straight for the study room. She had some English homework to do and figured that the only time she would want to complete it was in the free time before the committee meeting.

So she was sitting at the table, attempting to focus on her homework, when Abed entered the room and took a seat next to her. He slumped over as he did so, sliding down the back of the chair and letting out a long sigh.

“Hey, Abed? Everything okay?” Britta asked, setting down her pencil and giving him her full attention.

“No. The Dean is going mad with power.”

“How so?”

“He made us move a nest of baby birds.”

Britta tilted her head to one side. “I’m sorry? I don’t follow.”

“The WiFi hasn’t been working since Friday because a bird made a nest in the router,” Abed began to explain, “Elroy and I have been stalling and guarding the nest, because if we moved it, the mother wouldn’t be able to find her way back to her babies. The Dean was okay with that until he got on the school board. So now, we have to take care of the baby birds until they’re mature enough to fly.”

“And how long will that be?”

“Only a week, by the looks of it. Elroy thinks the babies were born somewhere else and the mother transported the clutch after something happened to the first nest.”

“I’m sorry, Abed,” Britta said, reaching over to timidly place a hand on his shoulder, “I’m sure the birds will be fine! They’re in great hands, after all.”

“Thanks, Britta. I’m just worried about the mother.”

“Why?”

“As far as she knows, her babies disappeared. She might spend the rest of her life looking for them or wishing for them to come back, and yet, she may never see them again.”

It only took Britta a second to realize why this issue was so important to Abed. Sometimes, a mother bird was the heir to a multi-million dollar valued wipes company that had set out on the journey of a lifetime. Sometimes, the bird they left behind wasn’t a baby, but their other half.

“You know, life has a funny way of working out alright sometimes,” Britta said. “I think if you take care of those babies and release them back into the wild, they’ll find their mom.”

Abed gave her a look that said he wasn’t so sure. But, regardless, he nodded in agreement.

“Right. They’ll find her. She’ll come back. It’ll all be fine.”

“Hey, Britta!” a familiar voice chimed. Britta and Abed spun around to see Annie enter the room, giving them a little wave as she sat down at the table.

“Oh, Annie! Hey! Did you threaten to quit the play?”

“I did…and then I _actually_ quit the play.”

“Why?” Abed asked.

“Well, the director had been super mean to Chang the past few rehearsals. So I was going to threaten to quit in order to force him to be nicer to him. But when I did, the director told me that he was only going hard on Chang because of the potential talent he saw in him. He was only being nice to me because…he saw no potential talent in me. He just wanted to reuse the costumes from the last time he put on this show.” Annie seemed to curl into herself, looking just about as dejected as she sounded.

“And what about Chang? Did he quit too?” Britta asked.

“No. He decided to stay once he learned that he had the gift of acting,” Annie scoffed.

“I’m sorry that turned out the way it did, Annie. That director guy just sounds like a bad director.”

“Correct. I would never treat one of my actors with that amount of disrespect, even if I thought it would get better results,” Abed added.

“Thanks, guys,” Annie said, sitting up a little straighter. “This whole thing has just been…weird. There hasn’t been a normal day since last Thursday. Normal by Greendale’s standards, at least.”

“I mean, on Wednesday, we had the whole attack ad debacle,” Britta observed. _“And on Thursday, I kissed Jeff!”_ her internal monologue added.

Annie gasped. “You’re right! I can’t believe I forgot about that already.”

“That’s what happens when your school is built on weirdness,” Abed said, shaking his head and staring at the wall in front of him.

Britta sighed. “But that doesn’t mean we always have to like it.”

\---

A few days passed. A few baby birds didn’t make it. Britta kept on keeping busy and ignoring her feelings, The Dean continued his charade for the school board, Chang went to more than a few Karate Kid rehearsals. And Jeff spent a few nights alone in his apartment with a bottle of scotch, trying not to think about Britta.

But by Thursday, he’d had enough. If she wasn’t ever going to be in the apartment at a time when they could have a real, coherent conversation, fine. Then he would go to her.

At first, Jeff wasn’t sure what finally drug him off of his barstool and into the car. It hit him when a certain Jason Derulo song came on the radio and he moved to turn up the volume, glancing to the side to see Britta’s annoyed reaction to the song she hated so much.

He missed her.

He’d grown accustomed to having her around. Spending every free moment with her. Driving to school with her, eating dinner with her, watching awful movies with her, surviving Greendale shenanigans with her. He’d do almost anything to get her back, and unfortunately, he knew exactly what was necessary.

_“We’ve got to confront whatever’s going on between us. And that means…going all the way back to The Incident.”_

Jeff had the entire car ride to plan what he was going to say. But he didn’t. He wasn’t exactly sure what he’d been thinking about instead, he just didn’t have any clue what to say once he got out of his car and through the front door and found himself sitting in front of a startled Britta.

“Jeff? What are you doing here?”

“I…”

He was searching for the right words. The right phrase, something humorous and impersonal, yet meaningful. Something that would crack the ice without melting it. Something that adequately summarized the complexity of his feelings and how confused he was about everything.

“I miss you like crazy,” he said instead.

Britta blinked. “You what?”

“Come on, Britts, it’s been a week. We’re adults. We can stop running away from each other and just be normal.”

She gave him a look that said ‘can we?’ but, thankfully, stopped herself from putting the sentiment into words.

“You’re right. But it wasn’t like I was running from you in the first place. Life just gets busy sometimes! And-”

“Britts.”

“Yes?”

“I know you too well for that one to work on me.”

She looked bashfully down at the counter. “Yeah, I know. I just…I was overwhelmed, okay? A lot’s happened in the past few weeks.”

“I’m not mad.”

“I didn’t say that I thought you were.”

“No, but you were clearly trying to defend yourself. You don’t have to. We’ve both been in a weird space all week, and I think we _actually_ need to talk about what happened now that we’ve had time to process.”

“I agree that we need to talk, but do we really need another big conversation over one little kiss?” Britta asked with a huff.

“It’s not just about the kiss, Britta. We need to talk about…The Incident.”

The words hung heavy in the air. Neither one of them had said them out loud since shortly after they’d first moved in together. And, until this week, they’d both been perfectly content to keep it that way. But now, Jeff was sitting under a dim, golden light, staring at Britta from across the bar and asking her to open up the emotional floodgates that they’d both been so careful to keep closed. She pursed her lips.

“Do we really need to rehash all of that?”

“Did we ever hash it in the first place?”

She sighed. “Not here. Not now, I’m still working.”

Jeff nodded. “When do you get off?”

“…in fifteen minutes.”

“Great,” he said, smiling in spite of himself, “I’m assuming that you still want to go somewhere else to talk?”

Britta cocked her head to the side and appeared to be considering her options. “Yeah. It would still be weird to do this at work, even if I’m off duty. How about…the Red Door?” she requested.

“Oh, you mean L Street?”

“Oh, you mean Douche Street?” she repeated in a mocking, mimicked tone.

Jeff shook his head. “It’s the same fucking bar!”

“Yeah, so why do you still insist on calling it the wrong, douchy name?”

He knew deep down that they were only doing this as a deflection, to cut how meaningful whatever came next might be. But it was still great to be right back to where they’d been before all of the weirdness that comes with drunkenly kissing your best-friend-slash-roommate.

“Because I’m right, that’s why,” he retorted.

She made a show of rolling her eyes. “Whatever, I have actual paying customers to take care of. Do you want to just meet at…the other bar?” she said, carefully avoiding its name.

“Yeah. Sounds good.”

Just like that, everything felt fragile again. Britta gave a small nod and an even smaller smile before scurrying off down the bar towards someone that had been calling her over. And Jeff still was at a complete loss for words.

\---

 _“You should have known that this was gonna catch up to you at some point. You can’t keep running from your roommate forever,”_ Britta thought, tightly gripping the steering wheel.

She just hadn’t expected it to go like this. Despite the fact that she’d tried to put as little thought as possible into the subject, she’d developed a clear picture of how she thought this was going to end. She would come home late one night after a closing shift and find him waiting up for her. He’d tell her that they were going to deal with whatever was going on between them. They’d talk, each confess how much they missed their friend, and wonder aloud how to revive their friendship. They’d likely come to the conclusion that she should move out, and she would give herself two weeks to pack up her things and find a new place within her budget.

Britta couldn’t quite explain why, but she had a feeling. A feeling that they were going to come to a different conclusion, that Jeff actively seeking her out instead of passively waiting for her had created a new timeline.

“And now I sound like Abed…” she grumbled to herself.

The mere thought of rejecting what she had thought was their predetermined destiny made her almost giddy. The outcome didn’t matter, she told herself, the fact that this wasn’t going the way she thought it would was enough.

_“But a different outcome wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. I mean, how many times over the years have you argued with him about the name of the bar and ended up making out in the alley behind it?”_

A series of what Abed would probably call flashbacks flooded her mind. The low light of the alleyway, the cold brick that one of them would shove the other up against, the stench of whiskey being carried on his breath. His fingers tangled in her hair or her nails raking down his scalp. The way he could make her breath hitch when his hands started to roam, the thrill of the knowledge that they could easily be caught by an employee or a patron. And his smile. His laugh. Whether he was grinning like a devil or smiling shyly like a kid in Sunday school, it was always…beautiful.

It was probably why she’d agreed to marry him. She’d never put much stock into the engagement, because she just didn’t want to talk about it. She’d been afraid. Of what, reawakening old feelings? Admitting that she wanted the kind of stability that included having a favorite brand of olive oil? Realizing that, for better or for worse, she wanted Jeff by her side for all of life’s twists and turns?

_“…yes, Britta. That’s exactly it.”_

Immediately, she cut the brakes on her train of thought.

 _“No. This is_ not _how this is going to end. We aren’t those kinds of people. And you don’t even want all of that! The grass is just greener on the other side or whatever.”_

She gripped the wheel even more tightly as she pulled into the Red Door’s parking lot. She knew that she should probably have a game plan, a strategy of some kind. But no words would come to mind.

\---

By the time Britta walked in the door, Jeff had already secured drinks for both of them; a scotch for him and a vodka neat with exactly four olives for her. He’d figured that they would both want them for what was about to happen.

She took a seat across from him in the corner booth that he had managed to secure. The farther away from the employees and other patrons, the better, he’d figured. There was no telling if this conversation would stay civil or turn into a screaming match.

Britta flipped her hair to one side, running her fingers through it as she looked at both him and the drink he’d gotten for her.

“Vodka neat?”

“Four olives.”

Her mouth curled up into a thin smile. “You remembered my drink of choice.”

“It’s hard _not_ to when that drink is the perfect mixture of basic and stupid,” Jeff said. He lifted his scotch to his lips as she glared at him, pointedly taking the olive-laden toothpick out of the glass.

“Whatever. I don’t make fun of you for exclusively drinking something that is reserved for men who are going through midlife crises and think they’re cooler than they are.”

“You can’t, because I’m pretty sure that accurately describes me.”

Britta laughed and shook her head before popping an olive in her mouth. Jeff knew they were stalling. There was no delicate way to transition, but starting the conversation with the matter at hand would have been too abrupt.

“So, uh…”

“Right. We’ve gotta talk about the engagement.”

“I’m surprised to hear you say the word.”

Britta shrugged. “Someone was going to have to sometime. Figured it might as well be me, right now.”

“Right,” Jeff said with a nod. He set his half-empty glass aside and propped his elbows up on the table, clasping his hands together in front of him. “I don’t even know where to start. I can’t Winger speech my way out of this one.” She laughed, and Jeff was glad that the line had worked to relax her.

“Yeah. Um…here’s the thing: I was talking to Annie a few days ago about all of this and I told her that I like ignoring shit and keeping myself busy to do so. She said that didn’t seem like something that a future therapist should do, so I’m working on it, and I think _here_ is a good place to start.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I’m…going to try being as open and honest as possible. And honestly, that might make me puke before all of this is over,” Britta admitted.

Jeff gave her a thin smile. “Okay. Cool. I’ll try the same. And-”

“Yes?”

“If you’re gonna throw up, can you just make sure that you don’t do it on me?”

She smiled right back at him. “Promise.”

“Okay, great. Now, Ms. Future Therapist, should we start at the beginning or work our way backwards?”

“Depends on what the beginning is. Is it the end of last year, or the _beginning_ -beginning?”

Jeff thought for a moment. That question had yet to enter his mind, so he had to make a snap decision.

“The beginning-beginning. Might as well hash out everything while we’re doing this, right?”

Britta sighed and slid down in the booth as she fiddled with her glass, but still nodded in agreement. “Right.”

“So…what’s the first issue we need to deal with?”

She sat in silent contemplation for at least half a minute, still slowly spinning her glass around on the table. “I guess we need to go back to paintball, don’t you think?”

“We can. What’s unresolved there, though?”

“I don’t know, it’s the first time something not strictly platonic happened between us. It was a release of tension more than anything else, but that still counts.”

Jeff nodded. “It does. We didn’t talk about it much at the time, but I didn’t think we needed to.”

“We didn’t. Until we did it again the next year.”

“And then again and again and again…” Jeff murmured.

“Yup. I think the first step for both of us is admitting to ourselves and each other that what happened during the first paintball game wasn’t just a release of tension,” Britta said, sitting up straighter, “It was the beginning of whatever we are, in a non-platonic sense. It made us confront our…for lack of a better term, desire, for one another.”

At the time, it had been easy to write off what happened as meaningless. But in hindsight? It was incredibly easy for Jeff to agree with her that it was the start of something real.

“I can do that,” he agreed. “You know, this is really all your fault. You looked really pretty that day.”

“What, when I was covered in sweat and shit from running around and shooting my classmates all day?” she asked, sounding surprised.

Jeff chuckled. “Yeah. I don’t think we’d be in this situation if you hadn’t looked so fucking pretty holding those guns and killing everyone. Metaphorically speaking.”

She blinked. The words had just tumbled out of Jeff’s mouth without any conscious thought or intent, but he was somewhat glad they had escaped. The road to total openness and honesty was paved now. They just had to keep traveling down it.

“Either your standards are incredibly low or you’re into some weird shit, Winger.”

“What’s wrong with a bit of both?”

Britta snorted. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“So…we did what we did during sophomore year because of what happened during paintball, we can agree on that. But why did we ever stop?”

“We got caught,” she said with a callous shrug, “Part of the appeal for both of us was the thrill of getting caught. And then we did, and the thrill was gone.”

“Sure. But you dated Troy after that and you guys were completely open about it. No thrill there,” Jeff said. It came out more accusatory than he’d wanted it to be.

“I think I just wanted to try doing things differently. And - if I can be perfectly honest-”

“That’s what we’re trying to do here, Britts.”

She wrinkled her nose and narrowed her eyes at him before continuing. “I think that he dated me just because he felt like he had to date a girl, and he knew me well enough to think that he should date me.”

“Wait, are you saying-”

“Yeah. I can’t confirm, and I don’t usually like to speculate, but that relationship only worked for so long because we would go _weeks_ without going on a date or even just spending time together without Abed. And neither of us minded or missed each other the way that-”

Britta stopped herself, suddenly leaning forward in her seat and gripping onto the edge of the table. Jeff bit his lip.

“The way that what, Britta?”

“The way that I miss you sometimes, okay? The way that I missed you after we broke up during sophomore year.”

She wouldn’t look up to meet his gaze. That was fine, he could talk her through this without making eye contact.

“Hey, hey. No need to be embarrassed. _Anyone_ would miss me after getting a direct hit of the Winger charm,” he said lightly.

“I don’t know _why_ I’m embarrassed,” she admitted, slowly raising her head. “You said earlier that you came to find me because you missed me. That’s not a big deal, friends miss each other all the time.”

“Uh huh. But, if I may, can I ask why you missed me and didn’t say anything?”

Britta shrugged. “It felt too awkward. Like it was just easier to go back to being in the study group together with no other complications.”

“That’s fair. I, uh, felt the same way.”

“What did you miss, specifically?”

Jeff thought that he should take a moment to collect his thoughts, but he started answering without missing a beat. “I missed spending so much time with you. And not just the time when we were having sex, I missed getting takeout and making fun of bad movies and going to karaoke nights at dumpy bars. I didn’t really have anyone else to do that kind of stuff with.”

“So you missed being close friends,” Britta said unsurely.

That made Jeff pause. Maybe she was right, and had just confirmed his hypothesis. He loved her platonically. He also wanted to sleep with her. He didn’t want anything more or less.

“Yeah. You were my best friend that whole year, and then when we stopped sleeping together, we stopped being best friends. And we _weren’t_ that close again until this year when you moved in.”

She seemed to let out a sigh of relief. “Good. I mean…if we’re ready to jump ahead, I think that’s why I agreed to marry you. I missed my best friend and I liked the idea of spending the rest of my life with him.”

“So you weren’t like, in love with me or anything?”

“Oh, god no,” she said too quickly, “I think that we were grasping for some kind of stability, you know? Abed was right about that, even if he said it rudely at first. And there’s nothing wrong with trying to find stability with your attractive best friend, right?”

“Oh, so you _do_ think I’m attractive, then?”

“You’re so fucking stupid,” she said, laughing and grinning broadly. “Jeff, I made out with you after you proposed and was going to fuck you on the new table. It just hurts to admit, so I didn’t. But...you know. You’ve grown into your looks.”

“Wow. The last time someone said that about me was my aunt when I finally ditched my bowl cut in high school,” Jeff remarked glibly.

“I’m honored to be included in the same category as her.”

They smiled at one another through the orange haze of the bar. Both of them had been inching closer and closer to the edges of their seats, like they were attempting to physically close the emotional distance that they’d been patching up.

“So, there’s just one another thing about the engagement…”

“Yes?”

“I think you’re right. I think that we both just wanted our best friend back, and thought that sleeping with said best friend would be a bonus. The stress and pressure of the situation we were in allowed us to admit that,” Jeff said. Abed had been right about yet another thing. But he was wrong about the thing they were admitting being some kind of undying romantic love or something.

 _“Right?”_ his brain asked before he could stop it. _“There’s still no romance in anything we’ve ever done. This is what we want. This is what I want,_ ” he affirmed.

“Yeah. We needed something to push us to really make up with each other, and as it turned out, our school almost being sold to Subway fit the bill,” Britta agreed.

“Yeah. And then…why’d we break off the engagement and never talk about it?”

“It didn’t seem like there was much to talk about at the time,” she said flippantly, “We didn’t connect it to all of our history like we did now, we just viewed it as an isolated incident. One where we panicked and liked the idea of settling down and being friends again.”

“And we didn’t want to talk about our feelings.”

“Yeah,” she laughed, “we didn’t want to talk about our feelings.”

“And then we kissed last week.”

“We did. Probably because we didn’t talk about everything for so long. It wasn’t really a small deal, after all.”

Jeff nodded, his expression growing more solemn. He leaned back in the booth and picked up his scotch again, studying the liquid swirling around in the bottom of the glass.

“So where do we go from here?”

Britta looked away right as he looked back up. “I’m not sure. We’re still friends, right?”

“Of course. Friends and roommates and…”

Jeff made a snap decision. He _wanted_ her. And he thought he could sense that she wanted him, too.

“What if we were like…best friends with benefits again? We don’t have to tell anyone, we can let them keep speculating. Because we don’t need anyone’s approval to do what makes us happy.”

Britta looked back up, a nearly radiant grin plastered on her face. “I like that idea. Best friends with benefits," she echoed, humming thoughtfully. "I think we’ve finally found a label that suits us.”

His eyes flicked over to her glossy lips, and she gave the smallest of nods. It felt like they’d done enough talking to last them for months, anyway. So he set down his scotch, she brushed aside her vodka, and they slowly leaned across the table.

Usually, Jeff didn’t like the taste of olives. But it was somehow always easier to stomach when it was on Britta’s lips.

\---

They didn’t stay at the bar for much longer. It was one of those nights where Jeff left a tip on the table and they disappeared without any fanfare whatsoever. He was surprisingly grateful that they’d taken separate cars so that they would actually wait to get home and _not_ immediately go to town in the backseat like a couple of high schoolers.

She’d gotten back first and was waiting in the doorway to her room, already looking flushed and still grinning like a devil.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“We’re doing this, right?”

Britta laughed, and there was a certain incredulous quality to the sound. “I mean, why wouldn’t we?”

Jeff decided not to waste any more time and captured her in a surprisingly aggressive kiss. She responded with a sound that made his stomach flutter as he picked her up; Britta wrapping her legs around his torso so that he could more easily carry her over to the bed. Even though they were the only two people in the apartment, he still shut the door behind them. It felt like he should, like this moment should be as private as possible.

He guided her down onto the bed, kissing her all the while. When he pulled away to adjust their position, she went right for his neck, sucking on one of the spots she knew to be especially sensitive.

“Jesus…” he muttered.

Britta pulled away as well, untangling her legs and shifting upwards so that her head was supported by her pillows. “Oh, so you finally made up your mind about the existence of a god?”

He did his best to frown, but couldn’t quite complete the action when her smile was still as bright as the sun. “No. It depends on the day.”

“And this is a day where one exists?”

Jeff knew that she was joking. This was some of their bog-standard pre-sex banter. But, seeing her already glistening with sweat and nearly breathless, he was inclined to genuinely agree with her.

“Yeah. It is.”

She rushed forward and wrapped both arms around his shoulders, pulling him down with her as she kept practically attacking his mouth. He decided to return her favor from earlier and lowered himself to press a trail of feather light kisses down her neck towards her collar bone. His beard scratched against the sensitive skin as he did so, and Britta gasped at the sensation.

“Hey…you know what I’ve wondered since the day you started sporting that stubble?” she asked as he was frantically tugging up the hem of her shirt.

“I don’t know, what?”

She sat up to help him get it over her head, then quickly discarded her bra as well. Her smile widened. “What would it feel like between my thighs?”

Jeff laughed, shaking his head. “You’re _so_ gross.”

“So are you!”

He smiled as she tugged on his own shirt and swiftly obliged with her silent request. “Whatever, it’s just nice to have a confirmation that you’ve been fantasizing about me for months.”

Britta rolled her eyes. “Sure, you caught me. Only because I’m sure that you’re no better.”

As he watched her lean back onto her bed, golden hair fanning out over her pillow, Jeff couldn’t help but smile down at her and nod.

“Yeah. You’re right.”

“Now, are you actually gonna show me or are you just gonna keep talking?” she huffed.

“Oh, I’ll show you alright,” he said in a lower voice, the words coming out almost like a growl. Britta practically whined as he undid the button on her pants and started pulling them down, moving tortuously slow.

“God, what is _wrong_ with you?” she grumbled as he finally whipped them off and cast them onto the floor.

“What do you mean?”

“Can’t you just…”

“What, Britta? Can I just what?” Jeff asked with a teasing smirk. He knew exactly what he was doing to her.

“Ugh! Just don’t draw this out any more,” she whined impatiently.

“Oh, so one might say that you…need me?” He shifted back into his low voice and delighted in the fact that it appeared to visibly send a shiver down Britta’s spine.

“Yes! I need you, whatever! Just _please_ fuck me.”

“You know, it’s always nice to hear you beg,” Jeff said, beginning to toy with the waistband of her underwear.

She huffed. “Fuck you, Winger.”

“I thought that's what you wanted to do?”

Britta lifted her head up to make eye contact with him, her face resting in an incredibly unamused frown. “I really hate you sometimes.”

“I know you do. And yet, here we are.”

He decided not to keep her waiting any longer and quickly discarded her last layer of clothing. As she hooked her legs over his shoulders and he got to work, he couldn’t help but delight in how he seemed to know exactly where she wanted him.

_“God, why on earth did we ever deprive ourselves of this?”_

\---

After what felt like a blissful eternity, they exhaustedly tangled themselves up together under Britta’s covers, eyelids already drooping and breathing growing heavy.

“Shit, Winger,” she muttered, not feeling like she was capable of saying much more.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Not sure. Just…wow. Fuck. That’s all.”

Britta wasn’t usually this incoherent after having sex with anyone. But it felt like there had been something palpable in the air, something about releasing almost four years’ worth of tension. She didn’t even have it in her to be upset that they had just proved everyone who had doubted the nature of their relationship over the past couple months right.

“I must admit, I’m impressed with myself that I could get you to this level. This never really happened before.”

She shook her head as she flipped onto one side to face him. “Would you believe me if I said that I was just pretending to make you feel better?”

“No. Because I can tell when you’re acting. You’re not good at it.”

Britta laughed, then realized that she should probably be offended and half-heartedly smacked him on the shoulder. “Whatever, Winger.”

“If it’s any consolation, I’m only good at acting when it’s in a court of law. Not like Chang, who’s apparently some prodigy or something.”

She laughed and swatted at him again. “You did _not_ just bring up Benjamin Chang while we’re both still naked.”

“I think I did. And I’m not quite sure why,” Jeff admitted with a little chuckle.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“So are you.”

And then they were gazing at each other again in the soft light of the lamp on Britta’s bedside table, heads resting on the same pillow. It only seemed natural to go in for another kiss. But this one felt different. More tender, less needy. A kiss that said this wasn’t going to be a one-time thing. A kiss that was the start of something. Of what, Britta wasn’t quite sure. But it didn’t really matter. Because she had Jeff Winger right where she’d never been able to admit that she wanted him, and when she laid her head against his chest and curled around him, the sound of his heartbeat lulled her right to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm _very_ excited about how this is going! next chapter will probably be a little shorter to wrap up the events of 06x04, but who knows, I might have seventeen new ideas between now and when I finish writing it.
> 
> let me know what you thought of this chapter!! Jeff and Britta's conversation in the bar is something I've been building towards pretty much since the beginning, so it felt really great to finally get there.
> 
> hope you all have been doing well and have a great day/night!! <3


	9. Creative Problem Solving and the Art of Subtlety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Save Greendale Committee tries to help the Dean while Jeff and Britta enjoy the new benefits to their relationship.

“I just can’t believe how well my stand is doing!” Shirley squealed. “You and Todd must have really upped your game.”

Britta smiled. She was currently on her weekly phone call with her friend-slash-boss and giving her the sandwich stand’s updated profits, as well as filing her in on all the important events from the past week; the Dean’s promotion, Chang’s play, and Abed’s baby birds.

“Aw, it’s no biggie. We just got good at making sandwiches, we make a good team.”

“Is he single?”

Britta nearly choked on the very air she was breathing. “What?! No! He’s got a wife and kid.”

“Oh, I forgot about that,” Shirley hummed. “I’d like to see you with someone, Bri-ta. You know, in a relationship.”

“Yeah, well…”

Britta _had_ left something semi-important out of her recap. She didn’t want to tell Shirley about her and Jeff’s escapades - how they were back to flirting and bickering and banging at every possible moment. (Or that their most recent escapade had taken place in the closet at the back of her stand.) But Britta also didn’t want to even entertain the possibility of dating someone else. She and Jeff weren’t dating, sure, but whatever they were doing right now was more than enough for her.

“I’m good right now. Taking some time for myself.”

“Aw, you’ve taken so much time for yourself! You deserve to date someone sweet.”

 _“You know…you don’t have to be totally honest to get her off your back,”_ a little voice in Britta’s head whispered. _“The truth exists to be stretched. Wait, shit. That sounds like something Jeff would say.”_

She took a deep breath as she hopped up onto the counter behind her. “So…I’m not really telling anyone this. Can you keep a secret?”

“Of course! I won’t breathe a word.”

“Alright. Well…I’m kind of…seeing someone now,” Britta squeaked. Even though she wasn’t offering specifics, it was still the first time that she’d told someone about what her and Jeff were doing since they’d started doing it. And sure, it had only been less than a week, but Britta knew neither of them had plans to share specifics with anyone.

“Oh! You are?!” Shirley exclaimed. She sounded so genuinely excited that it made Britta feel a little guilty.

“Yeah. It’s nothing serious, but don’t worry, I’m getting out there and having fun.”

“Good. Make sure you’re…you know, staying safe, too.”

Britta’s face flushed involuntarily. “Of course.”

Naturally, Jeff happened to walk up at that very moment, circling around the counter and stopping to stand right next to her.

 _“Ready to go?”_ he mouthed. She nodded, collecting her bag as she sprung off of the counter.

“Well, Shirley, we’ve got an evening committee gathering, and-”

“Of course! No problem. Good luck with the Dean and the school board!”

“Thanks. I hope your dad keeps getting better.”

“Me too. Like I said, things are looking up. I might even be back in Greendale by the end of the year!”

“That’s great! Well, um…”

“I know, you have to go. Bye, Bri-ta! Say hi to the others for me.”

Shirley hung up first, leaving Britta to shove her phone in her pocket right before Jeff leaned down and wrapped one arm around her waist to bring her in close enough for a kiss.

“Somebody’s feeling bold,” she murmured against his jaw.

Jeff shrugged as she pulled away a little more. “There’s no one around. _And_ we have to go to the bar you work at to discuss the whole school board situation. That’s not how I wanted to spend my Wednesday night.”

“Oh, how did you want to spend it?” Britta asked, one eyebrow quirking upwards.

“With you, dumbass.”

“Excuse you, I’m not a dumbass. _You’re_ actually the dumbass for-”

“How much time before we have to meet the others?”

Britta quickly pulled out her phone to check. “About thirty minutes. The Vatican’s five minutes away from here…”

“Storeroom. Now.”

Usually, Britta would argue with Jeff if he got a little too comfortable being the one in charge. But she didn’t want to at that particular moment, because she would only be ultimately agreeing with him.

—-

They showed up at the bar a few minutes late and stumbled through the front door to find the rest of their friends already sitting at a small table. Britta and Jeff tried to discreetly slide into the two open seats, but weren’t quiet enough to avoid alerting the group to their presence.

“You’re late,” Abed observed, narrowing his eyes as he watched them get comfortable; Jeff draping his arm over the back of Britta’s chair and Britta leaning into his side.

“Only by a few minutes!” Jeff protested. He checked his watch to confirm, and his face fell. “Okay, fine. We’re ten minutes late. We got…”

“Stuck in traffic.”

“Busy.”

They whipped around to glare at one another regarding their conflicting stories. However, everyone seemed too preoccupied to care about identifying the full truth.

“We’re already down one person since Chang’s at play rehearsal,” Annie groused.

“Before you guys got here, we were talking about how the school board is treating the Dean,” Frankie began. “They’re not really listening to any of his ideas. To be perfectly candid, I can’t speak to the quality of those ideas. But they’ve also been parading him around and forcing him to out himself to groups of strangers just to prove that they’re not homophobic.”

“It’s exactly what we thought would happen,” Britta said.

“Right. And now, we need to get him out of this situation. We have to find a way to show him that he doesn’t have to be at the school board’s beck and call.”

“I’m not sure he’ll be so open to that idea,” Annie said.

“Of course it’ll be hard to give up the opportunity, especially since he probably still believes that he can use the role to make a change,” Frankie agreed.

“Well, that. And I talked to him a couple of days ago, and he’s super excited to be a symbol for Greendale’s gay community, specifically.”

Frankie paused to think for a moment, visibly hemming and hawing over the new angle to their dilemma. “We can come up with a solution for that, right? Maybe one where he can come out as his true self, if that’s what he wants to do.”

“If we frame it like that…'' Jeff interjected, absentmindedly stroking his beard, “we could get him to see how the school board is stifling him.”

“Excuse you, weren’t you on team ‘not being fully transparent isn’t lying’ last week?” Britta asked, turning to glare at him with as much pure judgement as she could muster.

“That was before the Dean killed baby birds,” Abed said bluntly.

“Now, let’s be fair here,” Elroy said, raising both hands, “the Dean didn’t _kill_ the birds. They died because he demanded we move the nest because the school board demanded he fix the WiFi. And there’s still one left!”

Abed gave him a blank stare. “So the blood is on his hands.”

“Okay, we’re not going to get anywhere if we keep pointing fingers all evening,” Frankie said. She looked around the table, making eye contact with everyone one-by-one. “Great. So we all agree that the school board is mistreating the Dean. Is the solution simply to show him that they’re not taking him seriously? And give him another option to be a symbol of progress for the gay community?”

“I think it is,” Jeff readily agreed.

“But how do we do it?” Annie asked.

“Well, he felt bad about the birds, but it wasn’t enough to change his mind,” Abed said, “I think we need to remind him that he deserves to be treated better.”

“That he’s more than a shield for homophobes,” Britta added.

“Exactly,” Frankie said with a nod. “Well, my first concrete idea is-”

“Well, well, if it isn’t Jeffery Winger and his motley crew!”

Jeff raised an eyebrow in confusion as he spun around to see who had called out to him. The unmistakably British voice had come from an unsurprising source; one that Jeff was surprisingly happy to see.

“If it isn’t Ian Duncan,” he said. He untangled himself from Britta and stood up to greet the other man, grabbing one of his hands and clapping him on the back.

“Good to see you again, old chap. Say, did you add some members to your little committee?” Duncan asked, pointing around the table at the faces unfamiliar to him.

“We did. Had to have someone take your place, you know? Frankie, Elroy, this is Ian Duncan. He was a psychology professor at Greendale until this year,” Jeff explained.

“Hi, I’m Francesca Dart.” The woman stood up and leaned over the table to offer her hand to Duncan. He swiftly took it and shook it vigorously, looking Frankie up and down as he did so.

“Well…hello. Are you single?”

“…something like the opposite of that,” Frankie murmured, quickly pulling her hand away and retreating back to her seat.

“Ah, well, I tried. And you are?” Duncan asked, pointing at Elroy.

“Elroy Patashnik. Inventor and new IT guy,” he replied.

“Nice to meet you both. I’m glad you were able to round out the crew. And good to see you, Annie, Abed, and…Britta, you’re looking lovely as ever.”

Jeff wasn’t the jealous type. That’s what he told himself, anyway. But even he couldn’t deny the white hot flash of jealousy he felt when Duncan looked over Britta with a particular hunger in his eyes.

“Uh, thanks, Duncan,” she said, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

“Please, call me Ian,” he insisted. Jeff’s previous friendliness instantly dissolved, leaving behind only barely unchecked rage. Unfortunately, Britta looked up at him at that exact moment, and her mouth twisted up into a peculiar smile.

“Oh, _of course_ , Ian.”

 _“Fucking hell. She knows what she’s doing,”_ Jeff thought as he watched Britta offer her hand to Duncan so that he could kiss it. She looked over the psychology professor’s shoulder and stared right at Jeff, her smile only growing more wicked.

“Say, are you all here for a meeting? Or would you be able to join me for a drink at the bar?” Duncan asked, his hand lingering on Britta’s.

“A meeting,” she said quickly. However, when she glanced at the man standing behind him, she remembered her objective. “But, I mean, if we finish up in a few minutes…”

“Nope. We have super serious business to discuss. Probably will be here all night.” Jeff stepped forward and placed a hand on Duncan’s shoulder. The gesture appeared friendly, but he used his position to pull the British man back away from Britta. She looked up at Jeff with wide eyes, visibly surprised at the display of disguised aggression.

“Oh, that’s a shame. Maybe Britta could give me her number though…”

“You know, we’ve got to get back to our super serious business, you’d probably be bored to death by it,” Jeff interjected.

“I get it. Let’s catch up some other time, Winger,” Duncan insisted.

“Of course. Some other time.”

Britta met Jeff’s gaze, her lips pursed into a smug smile. She’d barely flirted back, and yet, somehow had driven Jeff absolutely wild.

Duncan started to turn and wave, but he quickly whipped back around. “Wait! I forgot, I need to apologize to you all.”

Annie’s eyes narrowed. “For what?”

“You know how I took a job at City College, right?”

Jeff crossed his arms. “Yes?”

“Well, I may have gone out with some of my colleagues one night and drank a little too much and started sharing some stories from my time at Greendale. And…they took one of them to make an attack ad against you all a little while ago.”

“You told them about Ruffles?!” Annie roared, shooting straight up out of her seat.

“Yes. And I’m very sorry, it’s not my fault we were all having a smashing good time!”

“And I thought I already had enough reasons to dislike you…” Frankie grumbled.

“Duncan, how could you?” Jeff exclaimed, sounding genuinely outraged. “We had to form a situation room over that, it’s a whole night of my life I’m never getting back!”

The professor looked up at him sheepishly. “Like I said, I didn’t mean to! It just slipped out while we were passing around a bottle of rum.”

“At least we know how City College found out about the dog and know that they probably aren’t spying on us,” Britta offered, leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms.

Jeff shook his head and let out a long sigh. “Whatever. Just try not to spill any more trade secrets, please?”

Duncan nodded, patting Jeff reassuringly on the shoulder. “Of course. I’ll do my best, ol’ chap. Good luck with your super serious committee business,” he said, sounding nearly sarcastic by the end. He leaned in closer to Jeff as he began to step away and lowered his voice so that only he could hear. “And you could have just told me that you and Britta were back together. No need to be a dick about it.”

The man scurried off before Jeff could react, leaving him to look down at the ground in shock. Britta noticed first - because of course she did - and reached out to run her fingers along the side of his arm.

“You good?” she asked in a hushed voice.

“Yeah. Yeah,” he muttered. He stepped back to the table and took his seat again, not draping his arm over Britta’s chair this time.

“Well, at least that’s one mystery solved,” Frankie said. “Now, to finish solving our current dilemma.”

Jeff kept his gaze locked on the table in front of him as the group continued to chatter about the best ways to get the Dean to see that his position on the school board wasn’t generating any positive results for anyone.

 _“I only got mad because it’s Duncan. And she flirted back to mess with me. Right? I’m not a possessive asshole, that was just a dick move,”_ he assured himself.

After another moment or so, Britta leaned in close to him and placed her lips right next to his ear. “Meet me out back in a minute.”

“Why can’t we just leave together?” he whispered back.

“To avoid suspicion, dummy.”

She innocently stood up and pushed her chair in, the rest of the group too engrossed in lively debate to bother asking where she was going. And, after an excruciatingly long minute, Jeff did the same.

\---

“Britta, what the hell was that all about?!”

“What was what all about?” she asked, tipping her head to one side and looking at Jeff like she knew exactly what he was referring to.

“Oh, _of course, Ian_ ,” Jeff said, attempting to mimic and mock her tone. He took a few steps closer to where Britta was leaning against the brick wall of The Vatican by the lone lamppost behind the establishment, which cast a hazy glow around both of them.

“Oh, that,” she said simply, her mouth curling up into a cheshire grin. “God, that really bothered you, didn’t it? You didn’t even like him looking at me.”

“Do you just like seeing me this riled up?”

Britta gave a non-committal shrug. “Why’d you even get this riled up? We’re not exclusive, right?”

Jeff hesitated before answering. “Right. But _him_?”

“You _hated_ the idea of me going to have a drink with him, didn’t you,” she asked in a mocking tone. She stepped away from the wall and towards Jeff to begin walking her fingers up his chest. “Seeing me with him made you jealous, didn’t it? I bet you were imagining him taking me home, right?”

“I’d never let that happen,” he growled.

“Oh, but we’re not exclusive, right? And I have free will.”

“You can go home with anyone you want, just not him. It’s…Duncan. I’ve known him forever.”

“So I’m not allowed to sleep with any of your friends.”

Jeff shrugged, attempting to keep his expression neutral as Britta began tracing the outlines of his nipples through his shirt. “I don’t know. It just seems weird,” he said, voice cracking in the middle of the statement.

“What, because it makes you _jealous_?” She repeated the word in a lower voice, her breath hot against his cheek.

“Okay, fine! Yes, I got fucking jealous back there! Because one, you’re my friend, and no friend of mine should be subjected to a night with Ian Duncan. And two, I like sleeping with you and I don’t want him to sleep with you, too!”

Britta’s wicked grin only widened at Jeff’s sudden admission. He stared down at her, like if he stared intently enough, she’d forget all of what he’d just said.

“Oh, is that how you really feel?” Her fingertips migrated up to the base of his neck, where she started scratching her nails up his nape. Jeff let out a whimper, barely able to stop himself from making more noise.

“Yes. Yes, because I’m a selfish, hypocritical monster. I’m a man, Britta. It’s…it’s instinctual to protect you from other potential mates.”

Britta recoiled a little. “One, gross way of putting it. Two,” she leaned in close again, her lips now brushing against Jeff’s ear, “not gonna lie, seeing you like this is kinda getting me going.”

“Oh, it is?”

She gave a little nod, to which Jeff grinned back.

“Alright, then. You know what, Britta?” he asked in a low voice. “I hate it when other guys look at you. Hate it. I want to punch them right in the nose if they stare for too long.”

She let out a desperate little sound, and Jeff’s smile turned satisfied. Of course, he was playing up how he felt for this specific situation. But a part of him _did_ legitimately hate it when other men ogled her for a little too long. It wasn’t like he felt that he should be the only one to do so, it was just that Britta deserved more respect than they gave her. However, there was no reason to clarify that now when the tables were turning and he was on his way to having her become a whimpering mess.

“I got so fucking angry watching Duncan try to pick you up. I bet he wouldn’t know the first thing about how to treat you right,” Jeff practically growled. He started taking minute steps towards the wall, essentially backing Britta against it once again as her hands were still glued to his chest.

“How do you know that?” she asked in a breathy whisper. Jeff grinned again.

“Because I know the most about how to pleasure you, don’t I? No one else knows as much as I do.”

“That’s a bold claim,” Britta mumbled. Jeff responded by reaching out to root his hands in her hair, running the pads of his fingers along her scalp until he reached the top of her head; then grabbing two fistfuls of hair and pulling sharply. She let out a low moan, completely betraying the facade she was trying to keep up.

“You want me. You don’t want Duncan this way, do you?”

“Do I have to say it?”

“I want to hear it,” Jeff ordered, his commanding tone surprising even to himself.

Britta’s eyes widened as he tugged on her hair again and his body pressed hers fully against the wall. “Fuck. I want you, Jeff. I want you, not Duncan, I promise.”

Jeff released his grip on her hair, causing her to gasp and slide down slightly. “Good girl.” She shot him a dirty look in response, which made him laugh. “What? I’m just proving that I know the most about what you like.”

Before Britta could protest, Jeff backed away from the building enough to wrap his arms around her waist and pick her up. She readily wrapped her legs around his torso and clung to his shoulders as he dove forward to plant a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on her collarbone, pushing her back into the wall in the process. Britta giggled at first, but the giggles quickly turned to much breathier, needier sounds as he moved up towards her earlobe.

“I’ll tell you this, Britta. If he ever looks at you like that again, I’ll rip his head off. Metaphorically speaking,” he whispered into her ear.

“The metaphor line kind of killed the mood,” she whined. However, she immediately stopped complaining when Jeff stopped to suck at a spot below her ear that he knew to be particularly sensitive.

“Do you like the idea of me fighting someone for you?” Jeff asked in an even lower whisper. He curled a strand of Britta’s hair around one of his fingers and pressed her further into the brick, causing her to let out a strangled moan.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Well, that’s not super feminist of you,” he joked.

“I don’t care. It’s fucking hot, and if it makes you feel better, I hate myself for thinking that.”

Jeff grinned as he started planting another trail of slow kisses up her jawline, drawing the process out as much as possible. Britta was basically mewling by the time he reached the corner of her mouth and pursed his lips to kiss it without applying any pressure.

“God, you’re a mess for me,” he murmured, mere millimeters away from Britta’s mouth. For once in her life, she couldn’t argue, because she was squirming against him and trying desperately to wrap herself more tightly around his body.

“I mean, you finally found a haircut that suits you. And the beard doesn’t hurt,” she said, tone shaky as she met Jeff’s eyes and attempted a smile.

Jeff decided to relieve some of the tension by finally properly kissing her. Britta swiftly cupped the side of his face and pulled him somehow closer, pushing her tongue into his mouth with no fanfare whatsoever. It took a lot of restraint not to laugh at her desperation, but Jeff managed; most likely because he was equally desperate and too busy appreciating how it felt to have their bodies pressed together once again.

 _“We’re puzzle pieces,”_ he thought, _“we fit together, and this is the way it’s supposed to be.”_

\---

They missed the rest of the group’s conversation, so Frankie filled Jeff in on the salient facts the next morning as they were walking from the library to their respective offices.

“We decided that you’re the best person to talk to the Dean, so if you want to try to catch him during his lunch break today, you should,” she said. “By the way, where’d you disappear to last night?”

“Um…” Uncharacteristically, Jeff hadn’t thought up a lie yet. “Britta’s boss called her back to help with a…nacho cheese explosion. I went to help.”

Frankie squinted skeptically, but nodded anyway. Jeff knew her well enough at this point to know that she never wanted more details than she needed. “That was nice of you. Anyway, with the Dean, try to stick to the angle of being concerned about how he’s being treated. I know that shouldn’t be hard, since you are, but just keep it at the front of your mind. You might also want to slip something in about how you were wrong about politics.”

“I wasn’t wrong about the nature of politics, and I never admit that I was wrong about _anything_ ,” Jeff insisted.

“Fine. Tell him that you gave him bad advice, then.”

“That’s another way of admitting that I was wrong.”

Frankie sighed. “Fine. Just do what you have to do. And, for the record, I’m not worried about you screwing this up, since I know this situation didn’t turn out the way you hoped it would.”

“Of course. I thought getting put on the school board actually meant something.”

“Wait…”

“What?”

“Did you just admit that you were wrong about something?” Frankie asked with mock surprise.

Jeff gave her a disgruntled, begrudging smile. “Absolutely not. I already said that I would never.”

\---

To stay true to his word, Jeff took a trip to the Dean’s office around the time when he expected the other man to be taking his afternoon break. He found that the door had been left slightly ajar and that the man was slumped over with his head on his desk, sitting in total darkness. Jeff sighed and knocked softly on the doorframe to alert the Dean to his presence.

“Hey, Craig? Are you in here?”

“Is that you, Jeffery?”

“Uh huh.”

“Come on in.”

Jeff timidly stepped into the office and shut the door behind him, pausing to turn on a lamp before padding over to the Dean’s desk.

“So…how’s it going?”

“Just terrible, Jeffrey!” he exclaimed. “I’m trying so hard with the school board, I really am, but they won’t listen to any of my ideas. They don’t want to help Greendale and they don't value my opinion, they just want a gay dean. Frankie and Britta were right.” He buried his head in his hands, which gave Jeff some kind of stabbing pain in his stomach.

_“That’s guilt, you idiot. A normal human emotion.”_

At least there would be very little convincing involved, since the Dean seemed to already be on the same page as the rest of the committee. Jeff swiftly took a seat across from the other man and reassessed his plan.

“You’re right, they were. And I was…wrong. Not about politics, but about the school board not only having bad intentions. You shouldn’t have to put up with them parading you around any longer.”

“Honestly, I don’t mind speaking to students and being a symbol for them. But I hate that the board won’t even listen to me after all that I’ve done for them,” Craig said. He lifted his head and sat up a little straighter, dabbing at the corners of his eyes before finally meeting Jeff’s gaze.

“That’s fine. You know, you can keep doing that without the board. We could organize events that you could speak at to continue doing that kind of work for yourself and not another organization,” Jeff offered.

“Hm, that’s not a bad idea…”

“In fact, you could even be more transparent, if you wanted to be. But you aren’t getting anything out of the position, and neither is the school.”

The Dean gasped. “Are you suggesting that I resign?”

“I mean…”

“I thought about it, but then I thought that I should keep trying. It’s only been a week, right? I’ve barely had any time to get to them.”

“That’s true. But if it’s taking this much of a toll on you, it might not be worth it.”

The Dean paused to think. “Of course. But I can do it for Greendale. I’d do almost anything for Greendale,” he said, clearly putting on a brave face.

Jeff sighed, making a snap decision to do something far outside his comfort zone. “Craig…I was also wrong about how good you taking the position would be for Greendale. If the school board won’t listen to any of your ideas, then it’s highly unlikely that they’ll ever do anything for us.”

“Right,” the Dean agreed, nodding sadly. “If they refuse to listen to me, then they won’t hear any of our demands. And I’ve done everything they’ve asked of me, Jeffrey. I even got Abed and Elroy to move their birds to fix the WiFi! I killed _baby birds_ , Jeff!” He was clearly beginning to spiral, coming close to hyperventilating as he clutched at his chest.

“Hey, hey,” Jeff said, reaching across the desk to pat the Dean’s arm, “you didn’t kill them. You made a decision that you thought would lead to the greatest good, and that’s okay. But…you’re right. I don’t think you’ll ever get to the school board. They’ve made up their minds about you and us as a whole. And that sucks. They suck. The good thing is that it just means that you can move on and we can keep making improvements to this school without them.”

The Dean lifted his head up off of his desk and sat up a little straighter. “I won’t ever get to them…but we went this long without them.” he echoed.

Jeff smiled gently. “Exactly.”

“Oh, thank you for coming in today, Jeffrey. This was all really starting to weigh on me,” Craig said. “It’s a complicated situation, you know? I just wanted to do what was best for the school and the students that have come to see me as a positive role model.”

“Of course. Uh, for what it’s worth, I came in because the whole committee was worried about your wellbeing. Them, and me.”

“Aw, how sweet. I’m so glad that I can always count on my favorite students.”

“Sure. But with that being said…I think Abed’s still a little upset about the birds. I know that you’re dealing with your own stuff, but you should maybe apologize to him when you feel up to it.”

“Of course, Jeffrey! I’ll do that right away!” the Dean insisted. “There’s still one left, isn’t there?”

“There is.”

“Then we’ll have a special ceremony to release it back into the wild.” The Dean then patted the top of his binder twice and shot up out of his seat.

“Where are you going?” Jeff asked, standing up along with him.

“To the school board’s office to officially resign. Tell them that I feel under-appreciated and mistreated,” the Dean said, crossing the room to grab a coat from stand by the door.

“Wow, right away?”

“No need to waste anymore of my time on them.”

“Fair enough.”

“Really, Jeffrey. Thank you for coming in today. And thank you for not just caring about your school, but also caring about your Dean.”

Jeff smiled, and in a rare display of genuine affection, held his arms out to the Dean for a hug. The smaller man readily embraced him and tucked his head down on top of Jeff’s pecs.

“Anytime, Craig. Anytime.”

\---

The rest of the week was rather uneventful, with the Dean’s resignation wrapping up the issue of the school board rather nicely. He asked Frankie and Britta to help him come up with a new way to speak to students as a member of the gay community; an offer which both women happily accepted.

And, by Friday, Britta hadn’t yet tired of Jeff.

It wasn’t that the revelation was shocking or entirely unprecedented. They had spent an entire school year like this, after all. But part of her had assumed that they would cool down a little, get most of it out of their system and fall into a pattern of occasional hook-ups when one or both of them was bored. However, the spark hadn’t yet gone out. They were barely able to be in a room together without ultimately ending up with their tongues down each other’s throats or their hands in each other’s pants. They even had plans to properly go two-for-two on the study room table over the weekend, with Jeff executing a heist to get a set of keys to the library from the front office.

But, right now, they were seated next to each other in a dark theatre, watching Chang pour his soul out to the audience.

Britta still thought that it wasn’t right of the director to mistreat Chang the way Annie said he had, though she had to admit that whatever his method was had produced great results. At one point, she even heard a sniffle from Jeff and looked over to see him leaning towards the stage with one hand clasped over his mouth. Tears were running down his face, the residual lighting from the stage making them shine as they trailed down his cheeks.

“Jeff…are you good?” she whispered, leaning in close to him. He looked up and seemed somewhat startled, like he’d been caught doing something that he wasn’t supposed to.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just…good show. Good performance,” Jeff muttered in response. He shook his head and reclined in his seat as if he were now trying to burrow underground, far away from all of the real emotions he seemed to be experiencing.

“Okay.” Britta unsurely patted him on the arm and tried to relax, hoping to keep paying attention to the show. However, she could tell that Jeff was still tensed up beside her and he continued to occasionally let out small sniffles.

 _“Well, at least we now have definitive proof that Jeff Winger has a heart,”_ she thought. After several more minutes of stifled sniffling, she sighed in resignation and slid one of her hands over the armrest between them. Jeff’s left hand was resting in his lap while he was using his right to wipe at his eyes, so she took it. He froze for a moment, and Britta briefly thought that she might have done something wrong. Her fears were assuaged when Jeff’s fingers wrapped around hers and he squeezed her hand like it was a lifeline.

Past that point, Britta wasn’t able to concentrate on the play very well.

\---

“I’m speechless,” Jeff said as the group filed out into the lobby.

“I totally forgot Chang was up there,” Frankie added, surprise apparent in her voice.

Britta nodded. “Me too! It’s such a relief to be able to support him out of something other than fear.” Come to think of it, she _couldn’t_ immediately name the last time she’d been able to genuinely support him in a pursuit that didn't end up having a sinister ulterior motive attached to it.

“I guess all the suffering Chang endured paid off. But it’s contrary to the message of the play, and still an unethical directing tactic, in my eyes,” Abed said.

“I am at a total loss about what lesson to learn from any of this,” Annie said, clearly troubled as she looked down at the faded blue carpet.

“Maybe that’s the lesson,” Elroy said thoughtfully. The group took a moment to consider his point, all nodding despite not quite understanding what they were agreeing with. Luckily, Chang emerged from the theatre before they could spend any more time analyzing the message of the play.

“Hey, guys!”

They turned towards Chang and began clapping as he took several bows, seeming to revel in the positive attention.

“Annie, thank you for making me do this,” he said. The brunette took a step closer to him, flashing him a mildly pained smile.

“You’re welcome. And congratulations! I…I’m jealous,” she admitted.

“Oh! No, no, don’t be. Believe me, it’s not as glamorous as it looks. I just sit in my dressing room and all I dream about is the white picket fence and the dog…”

Annie cocked her head to the side. “I don’t have those, either…”

“Oh, well-”

“Hey, Chang, are you coming?” a man Britta could only assume was the director called.

 _“He looks crazy enough to be him,”_ she thought.

“Yeah, one second!” Chang called back. “All the actors go to some sort of afterparty together. So I’ll see you guys in school on Monday!” He quickly waved to everyone before joining a group of his co-stars and rushing right out the door.

Once he was out of sight, Britta stepped forward to stand beside the still upset Annie. “Hey, babe, what do you say we go have an afterparty of our own, huh?”

“I guess…” she said with a wistful sigh.

“We can go somewhere that’s not The Vatican,” Jeff offered, wandering over to Britta and propping one arm up on her shoulder.

“That sounds…nice,” Annie relented. She picked up her head enough to see the rest of her friends smiling at her encouragingly. “I’m sorry for getting down about this, I just thought that I had found something that I really enjoyed doing, you know? And then I found out I was bad at it, and that’s never a great feeling.”

“Oh, Annie,” Frankie hummed, “you have plenty of time to find more hobbies and things that you’re passionate about.” She stepped forward to place a comforting hand on Annie’s shoulder and smiled extra broadly.

“You’re right. There’s a lot more out there. Maybe acting’s just…not my thing.”

“I’ll tell you what, that’s not the worst thing in the world. This way, you don’t have to deal with theatre dorks all the time,” Britta said, elbowing Annie gently in the side.

Her friend laughed. “I don’t. And maybe that’s a gift.”

“You know, we should go to L Street. We haven’t been there in a while,” Jeff suggested, glancing sideways at Britta with a smirk that said he knew exactly what he was doing.

She rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. “I’ll have you know, it’s _far_ inferior to the Red Door.”

“Ugh, save it! We’re going somewhere that’s _not_ there. I just have to figure out where,” Annie interjected, shutting them down before their bickering could carry on any longer.

Abed squinted in Jeff and Britta’s direction and locked eyes with her for a moment, as if he could see right through her. She flashed him a timid smile as Jeff wrapped an arm around her shoulders and started making his way towards the exit, pulling her in closer as they stumbled out of the lobby.

 _“He knows, he definitely knows,”_ she thought as they hit the cool night air and continued arguing about where to go for their afterparty. Strangely, the notion didn’t bother her much at all.

\---

“We are gathered here today to celebrate the release of this bird into these skies,” Abed said solemnly.

The Dean had kept his promise and apologized to Abed by organizing an official ceremony for them to release the last bird into the wild. The committee was currently gathered in the parking lot, circled around a table that held the birdcage.

“We hope that its now fully formed wings may find purchase upon the four winds. If anyone would like to say something, now is the time.”

No one spoke up for several moments. Eventually, Britta lifted her head to look pointedly at Jeff. He had one arm draped around her shoulders and was holding her close to his chest since he was quickly becoming physically unable to be apart from her for any amount of time. The rest of the group followed suit, staring at him expectantly.

“Oh! Uh…I’ll always remember how you kept me from getting email for a week,” he offered.

“And that chirp you do when you want more bread!” Annie added. The bird squawked in response, causing her to excitedly flap her arms. “That one!”

Abed smiled fondly at her as he grabbed a stack of homemade accessories and began passing them out. “Now, everyone, please put on your cat masks and finger wings.”

They all did as they were told while Abed returned to the cage and unlatched it, bringing the bird out and gently cupping it in his hands. “With these cat masks, we remind you that this place can no longer be your home. But, with the fluttering of these wings, we symbolically join your flight into the natural world. Wings, everyone.”

Abed set the bird down and everyone else began flapping their winged fingers to encourage it to fly away. Jeff caught a glimpse of Britta’s face, screwed up in concentration as she stared at the bird and aggressively flapped in its direction. He couldn’t help but be charmed by her passion for something that she hadn’t been directly involved in and the level of care she had for Abed’s wellbeing.

 _“The care she has for everyone,”_ he thought, the ghost of her hand tracing the outside of his like it had while they were watching the play.

“Okay, you can go now!” she muttered to the bird.

“Time to go, little bird! That’s just the way it is,” Elroy added.

Somewhat reluctantly, it took off into the mid-morning sky. Abed circled around the table to join the rest of his friends in watching the bird fly off towards the sun, smiling wider as it moved further and further away.

“You did a great thing, Abed. Thanks to you, that bird has his whole bird life ahead of him to fly, meet lady birds, and maybe start a bird family. You made a difference,” Britta affirmed.

“Thanks, Britta.”

The group moved closer to embrace one another, and all Jeff could think about was once again, how lucky he was to have such wonderfully compassionate friends.

And Britta. Britta, who thought about birds being free to start bird families. Britta, who silently took his hand when he was going on an unexpectedly emotional journey with the Karate Kid play. Britta, who was currently nuzzling into the side of his neck and making sure that Abed would be onto them within the hour. But he couldn’t bring himself to care. None of this was anything that could be given up. It would be absurd to imagine giving any of it up any time soon.

(Especially Britta. Once someone had managed to hold onto her, how could they ever think of letting her go?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're really getting somewhere now huh!! 
> 
> please leave any thoughts and such down below!! (also I was gonna apologize for the scene behind the bar, but realized that an apology is probably not necessary fdshgfjk)
> 
> hope you all are doing well and staying safe, have a good day/night!! <3


End file.
